All a Dream
by The Lime-Wielding Ninja
Summary: Harry wakes up in St. Mungo's to find that it was just a dream. But dreams, like myths, often have some truths. Now Harry has to separate the fact from the fiction. DH spoilers! Beware! OCs are mine. Harry is not.
1. Awake

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other characters.**

* * *

All a Dream

Chapter 1

"He's moving, Lily. I think he's coming 'round!"

As Harry Potter opened his eyes, his immediate thought was, _I've been here before_. There was no mistaking it, the undecorated walls, the Healers in their bright green robes, the beds in uniform rows. He was in St. Mungo's.

This still didn't explain, however, why he'd heard his mother's name so clearly. Hadn't she died, 16 years before, as had his father, both trying to protect him from Voldemort?

But yet, here she sat beside him. "Harry? Harry, it's me," Lily said. "Your mum, do you remember?"

Were his senses deceiving him? They must be, his mother was dead. "But you're dead. You and dad died, I remember."

"Why would we have died," enquired James. "Voldemort came after us, but none of us died. He died that night, I guess the shock of it all..."

Harry hesitated. It never happened, all of it a dream?

"Okay then, I think I have some catching up to do," replied Harry.


	2. The Truth

**A/N: I'm sorry, Severn, but I needed a name to replace "Severus". I really am sorry. (Ha-ha. Severn doesn't even read FanFiction.) Oh, also, this is one of the longest chapters for something I've ever written. I think maybe **_**the**_** longest.**

All a Dream

Chapter 2

"So, where should we start, Harry?" asked James. "How far back do you remember?"

Harry thought back to that horrible Christmas Eve in Godrick's Hollow, when he'd dreamed his parent's "death" from Voldemort's point of view. Harry stated that he could only remember back so far.

"Well, then, we'd better start from a little before that, when Severn told us-"

"Wait," interrupted Harry, "I thought his name was Severus."

Lily looked at her son, confused. "Severus? No such name exists, Harry. And let your father continue, it's rude to interrupt."

Harry resigned to the fact that he'd have to listen if he wanted the facts, rolled his eyes immaturely and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Now, where were we?" said Harry's dad. "Ah, yes, Severn warned us that Voldemort was after us. He had some divination skills, and saw that we'd be found out at some point, and that it would probably lead to our deaths. Dumbledore heard of this, and offered to be our Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm. You know what that is, Harry?"

"Yeah, keep a soul secret inside a person so that no one but the Secret Keeper can tell you where that person or thing is."

"Correct. Dumbledore became our Secret Keeper for a while, but he thought that Voldemort found out about it, so he cancelled the charm on himself to switch with your godfather, Remus Lupin, do you remember him?"

"Of course I remember him," exclaimed Harry. "Best DADA teacher ever! Too bad about the werewolf thing, though."

"Yeah, Remus was so excited about that teaching position, remember Lily?" said James.

"Oh, I remember that phone call well," replied Lily.

Harry allowed them a few seconds reminiscence before saying "Well, what happened next?"

"Oh, yes, of course," said James, shaken to his senses. "Well, Moony was a good Secret Keeper. He only told our friends and family about us and the Fidelius Charm. Unfortunately, this included Peterson also called Wormtail, nice man, but highly susceptible to the Imperius Curse, which Voldemort cast on him. He was told to capture Remus, and handed him to Voldemort. Remus was force fed Verituserum. Somehow, he escaped before he could be killed. The damage, however, could not be undone. Remus had to contact us and warn us before it was too late, without being detected. He managed to Floo over to our house about ten minutes before Voldemort got there. Remus tried to hide you and Lily, but before he could find a good place, Voldemort was on the doorstep. I told Remus to run, but he didn't go past the kitchen. Voldemort then tried to kill me, but I dodged, and the curse hit a table, which exploded. I pretended to be dead from the blast. Voldemort walked right past the kitchen door Remus was behind, up the stairs to your room, where he tried to kill Lily. Again, he missed her, she played dead, and before he could kill you, Remus got him." James paused to see Harry's expression, which was slightly glazed over. So much was different. So much of what he'd been sure of was not real. He needed to find the facts in his life, before he was living in fiction.


	3. Scar?

All a Dream

Chapter 3

"Um, excuse me," interrupted a healer with a bottle of Skele-Gro and a large mug, "is Harry being talked to right now, or...Oh, goodness you're awake! There's a young Mr. Weasley to see you, dear."

"Excellent," said Harry with enthusiasm.

"Harry, do you want us to go get some tea or something?" enquired Lily.

"No, it's okay, Mum." It felt so strange to say that word to his mother. "You and Dad can stay."

And in walked Ron Weasley. He was pretty much the same as Harry had remembered (or, rather, had dreamed), except he had a beard. It wasn't much of one, but it was something.

The first words to escape Ron's mouth were: "Blimey! You're awake!" And in jubilation Ron ran over to Harry's bed, and sat down on a chair with so much enthusiasm that it broke. Blushing, Ron repaired it with his wand and sat down with considerable chagrin. This didn't stop his smile, though, which had remained on his face since he'd walked through the door.

"You aren't any different," said Harry, smiling as well. "Except the beard. Nice touch, mate."

"Ah, it's not really anything, you woke up. That's going to be huge news; you weren't supposed to wake up for a few years. A breakthrough, that is."

"Yeah, to think I dreamt it all. Even my scar hurting."

"You had a scar?" asked Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry slowly, as though talking to someone rather younger than him. "It was a lightning bolt on my forehead."

"There's no scar, Harry."

Harry could barely believe it. The scar, the connection to Voldemort, had never existed. The same scar that had caused him pain and humiliation had never been etched on his head. This was turning out to be one of the best days of his life.


	4. Wand

**A/N: When I wrote this part on my typewriter (I wasn't allowed on the computer for a while) this was originally included in the third chapter. But when I typed the third chapter on the computer I made it longer, and I decided to split the third chapter in two.**

All a Dream

Chapter 4

Harry talked with Ron and his parents for the next half hour. It was mostly Harry describing the world he knew so well in his dream, and in how many ways it was different from the one he was in now. It was just after Ron contradicting Harry on the size of History of Magic classroom that Harry remembered that he didn't have his wand.

"Oh, Ron was given 'custody' of it for you, dear," said Lily. Ron then reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the Phoenix feather wand. Harry's heart jumped at the prospect of using his wand in the real world as he took it from Ron, and he then immediately wondered why it was so special. He'd done magic before. Then again, what if he'd dreamt all the spells he thought he knew? What if he didn't know anything, really? He hesitated.

"You should know all the usual spells, Harry," said James, as though he'd read Harry's mind. "The healers knew you were having a lot of brain activity, extracted your most recent memory and found that you were living in a dream world. We taught you magic from here. Every now and then, the professors at Hogwarts would send us the curriculum for your subjects you chose in your dreams. We'd tell you the instructions for each new spell or potion you had to do. After an hour or so, we'd check your memory to see if you'd accomplished your work. You should know the same spells as the rest of your class."

This speech relieved Harry of his worries, though he still couldn't find a spell he wanted to perform. This time there were too many that came to mind. After a few suggestions from Ron and his parents, Harry decided on...

"_Wingardium Leviosa_," said Harry, swishing and flicking his wand at a flower in a vase beside his bed. The flower soared out of the vase, hit the ceiling, and descended to the end of Harry's bed, right at his feet. Harry smiled with satisfaction.

* * *

**A/N: So, this isn't the long chapter that was requested, but do not fear. There should be a good, long monologue coming up in the next chapter.**


	5. Schooling

**A/N: I'm sorry. This chapter is horrible. I only just woke up about an hour ago, but I really felt like writing. I hope this explains a few more things than confuses you...what a badly constructed sentence. Anyways, review and tell me how to improve this chapter, because, let's face it, it needs work.**

All a Dream

Chapter 5

"I remember using that wand in Charms class," reminisced James. "I got into much more trouble in Charms than in any other subject."

"This was your wand?" Harry responded.

"Yeah. That Ollivander's a strange bloke, isn't he," Ron butted in. "He nearly screamed at me for taking care of your wand."

"Another thing," said Harry. "Why did you have custody of my wand? It's not like I'd lose it or anything."

"In your dream, you broke your wand. You didn't use it for a long time, but you kept on waving your hand like there was a wand there. We figured, since you weren't using it, and some of your actions were getting violent – you knocked over your bedside table once, struggling to get away from something – that it would be better if Ron took care of your wand before you actually broke it, or it got lost under the bed and swept up," explained Lily.

Harry looked at his mother, no indication of understanding in his expression.

"I used my wand?"

"Yes, dear, you had to have it in your hand to be able to learn magic."

"..."

"We schooled you here, right?" said James.

"Mmhmm."

"So when you were in class, we put your wand within easy reach. You'd pick it up whenever you needed it. There were times, usually near the end of the school year, where you'd scream in pain, but you'd only let go of your wand when you fell unconscious. Those were times when you were fighting Voldemort or something. A lot more screaming happened in your fourth year, at the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Your wand was always close to you, but during the times at the Dursley's you rarely used it. And there were a few months this year when you barely used it. Occasionally, you'd pick it up as if examining it, but you didn't use it."

"The way you're explaining it, it sounds like I was kind of in a constant REM cycle," said Harry, slightly embarrassed.

"Pretty much," answered his mum. "You were living in a constant dream."

From there, Harry and Ron decided to go get some tea, and then go visit the Burrow. Lily and James would "check out" of St. Mungo's and head home.

* * *

**A/N: Two points:**

** -A REM cycle is "rapid eye movement". It's the time when you sleep that your brain processes information, and it's also the time when you dream.**

**-I'm sorry about the suck-ish-ness of this chapter. The next chapter will be up later today, when I'm fully conscious.**


	6. Tea and Lemonheads

**A/N: This is a very long chapter indeed. It took me about two hours to write, what with horrible spelling, random ideas, and a need for lunch.**

All a Dream

Chapter 6

As Ron and Harry walked up the stairs to the tea room, Harry realized just how accurate his dream was when he'd been to St. Mungo's in fifth year. Every detail was exactly the same. But Harry supposed that this came from him living in Mungo's for who knew how long. That was one of his first questions, once he and Ron sat at a table by the door.

"How long were you asleep?" said Ron. "Well, for about sixteen years now. Close to seventeen now, it's August 23rd."

"So, about eight years since we 'met'?" questioned Harry again.

"Nah, since we were born. Our parents were friends from when they were in Hogwarts. Mom and Dad were Head Boy and Head Girl. Your dad got into loads of trouble in first year with Peterson and Sirius, but Dad and them really hit it off, they both loved to cause trouble. They kept in touch after Dad left school, became good friends and all that."

So that explained why Ron had barely changed from the dream to life. They'd know each other from infancy. This also confirmed Sirius's existence, and Harry couldn't wait to see him after years of believing him dead. Unless...

"Is Sirius still alive?" wondered Harry aloud.

"Sure. I think he works here, actually, as a security guard for the violently insane. We could go see him, he's probably at the Burrow now, and he's guaranteed to be there for dinner Saturdays."

"Yeah, sure."

Their tea paid for, Ron and Harry headed to the St. Mungo's entrance, and stepped through the cool glass onto the almost deserted street.

Harry automatically headed right, but Ron stopped him. "I've got a car, it's this way."

It was the ugliest car Harry had ever seen. The two hubcaps left were corroding at the edges, and were painted mostly a sickly green, like badly mixed guacamole. The car itself was shaped roughly like a Jumbo Size Shreddies box set on its back, and the headlights were shaped like hearts. However, Ron walked right up to the car, looked up and down the street, and subtlety tapped the hood of the car three times saying, "Wake up, you bloody Lemonhead." At that moment, the car melted and reshaped itself into a Mazda Protégé with a small crack in the windshield. Ron frowned slightly, and fixed the windshield with a tap of his wand. "Harry, meet Lemonhead. Lemonhead, meet Harry."

Harry realized he was staring. Ron only smiled and said, "Did you know that when your jaw drops like that I can see your twelve-year molars?"

.:. :.: .:.

Once Harry and Ron got out of London, Ron sped up the car to something above 200 km/hour, took his hands off the wheel, and crawled into the back seat. "Keep driving, Lemonhead," Ron commanded the car. "I could've sworn I put it in the back seat."

A moment later, Ron reached over Harry's shoulder and handed him a tiny, carefully wrapped package. "Happy very Belated Birthday, Harry. From the whole Weasley family."

Harry ripped open the paper on his present as Ron clambered over his seat again to continue driving. When Harry opened the box, there was nothing but a small piece of paper inside. Harry picked it up and read the writing on it in Ron's familiar scrawl:

I O U 1 awesome book

Harry laughed, "One awesome book?"

"Yeah, I read it, it was awesome. It's called 'Twilight'. Quality Muggle fiction, that. When Mum asked me to get you something nice for your birthday, I didn't have enough money, 'cause of bills and stuff. So, after payday, I'll get you that book, you can read it, and then you can thank me properly for a good laugh."

Harry laughed again. "What is your job, by the way?"

"I'm working for the triplets, stocking shelves for-"

"_Triplets_?"

"Yeah, Fred, George and Anthony, the hell-raisers."

"I didn't remember Anthony. He didn't show up at all," said Harry. "It was just Fred and George."

"Really?" replied Ron. "Anthony's just as rowdy as the other two. Wonder why you didn't remember him."

"Probably just a random mistake."

.:. :.: .:.

The Burrow was just as Harry remembered, chickens, Wellington boots and all. As Ron and Harry walked in the door, there was a squeal of delight from the dining room table. Ginny, taller than Harry remembered sprinted up the stairs, yelling at the top of her voice, "Harry's here! Harry's here with Ron!"

A sound vaguely like thunder resulted as all the Weasleys in the house tried to come down the stairs at once. Judging by the variety of voices (the triplet's predominant), every single one of the Weasleys was at the Burrow, including the overage ones. The next few seconds for Harry were a blur of red hair, exclamations along the lines of "It's great to have you back", and hugs. Many, many hugs.

**A/N: The longest chapter I have ever written for something. And, another few points:**

**-Ron's car is, in short, mine. A little Mazda Protégé with a much cluttered back seat. Things that don't go bad (like food) will stay there for about a week before they are remembered. I must, however keep in mind that I am not yet of legal age to drive. Sigh.**

**-Something I should have said before is that a lot of things in my writing are a part of my everyday life. Like Ron's beard. One of my friends that looks like Ron (I have two) says that he wants a beard. I laughed at him very hard when he said that, and I decided to incorporate this in my story.**

**-I also couldn't resist a Twilight reference. Best book in the world.**


	7. Dinner at the Weasley's

All a Dream

Chapter 7

Lunch at the Weasley's that afternoon was one of the more fun occasions Harry could remember at the Burrow, mostly due to the fact that there were now triplets instead of twins, Ginny was quite possibly just as exuberant as them, if not more, and Percy was not quite as strict as Harry had thought. However, no matter how much fun Harry had, he had a nagging thought at the back of his mind that he couldn't quite register. It wasn't until Bill asked Harry what he thought Voldemort looked like that it finally clicked. No-one was afraid of Voldemort's name anymore.

"You said his name?"

...

...

...

"Yeah, Harry. What's there to fear in the name of a dead wizard?"

"But you said his name."

...

...

...

Ron snapped his fingers in front of Harry's eyes. "Hello? Harry? Bill was wondering what you thought Voldemort looked like."

"Oh. Sorry." Harry snapped out of his reverie. "He was tall, pale, red eyes like a snake's, no nose, and bald."

"A bald Voldemort would have been an improvement," Mr. Weasley snickered. "He had a flock-of-seagulls haircut."

.:. :.: .:.

Over the course of the day, Ron and Harry wrote letters to everyone that Harry had known. He was at first surprised, but then understood why Dean Thomas didn't actually exist. He had been Muggle-born, so Harry wouldn't have known him. Most people, however, had been the children of Harry's parent's friends, like Padma and Parvati Patil and Neville Longbottom. Hermione had an uncle who was a wizard (her mother was a Squib), and he had been an Auror, like James Potter, working on finding Death Eaters when Voldemort was in power.

While Harry and Ron were waiting for dinner to be ready - or rather for them to be voluntold to set the table -, Harry asked Ron for his version of the events leading up to the death of Voldemort. He thought his father's version was lacking in the details department.

"Well, it's pretty much like your dad said. The only things he left out were that when his second Killing Curse missed Lily, it hit your crib. The crib exploded, and you were stuck in a coma. The other your dad left out was that Voldemort was right pissed."

"Pissed as in drunk, or pissed as in mad?" asked Harry.

"Both, apparently," Ron replied. "That was probably why he didn't notice Remus following him up the stairs to your room."

Harry nodded his head in agreement.

.:. :.: .:.

Dinner was huge, and had to be held outside. Several other families came to the Weasley's for dinner, including the Blacks, both Regulus and Sirius. Some other families that attended were Remus Lupin and Dora, with Teddy, the Longbottoms, all of them completely sane (though Neville's grandmother could be seen as eccentric), and the Finnegans. Harry's mother came for only a few minutes because she was busy with plans for Harry coming home afterwards to meet with "the rest of the people who want to see you, dear".

By seven, the mosquitoes were becoming an issue, so the party moved inside. It was then that Harry got to sit down and really talk with Sirius.

Sirius Black hadn't really changed much since James and Lily's wedding. There were a few more wrinkles on his face, but when he smiled they were completely hidden.

"So, Harry, welcome back," said Sirius as he took a seat opposite Harry in the Weasley's dining room. "I expect you must be tired of hearing that, but nothing else sums it up better, eh?"

Harry smiled, still overjoyed at seeing Sirius after so many years. "Man, Sirius. It's great to see you. I thought you were dead."

Sirius did not exactly react the way Harry expected. He thought that Sirius would stare at him incredulously. Instead, he laughed, saying, "I'm not that old Harry, I thought you knew that."

Harry laughed, but then became more serious. "Tell me about your life; I have no idea what it's actually like. Where do you live, what's your job at St. Mungo's like?"

"Well, I live in the place I bought when I was sixteen, a little bungalow in North Wales. It's just me and Regulus, my brother. Poor guy had the Imperius Curse on him for five years before Voldemort was killed, five years. It took him about a year to get his brains back to normal, mostly. He still gets worried that his flashbacks will come back, but he hasn't had one for about 10 months.

"Anyway, you asked me about my job at Mungo's. I actually got the job because Regulus was in the ward for the violently insane, and I was the only one able to calm him down. I've been working there for a few years now, and I have to say that there've only been two major incidents, the first one where one of the patients stole a healer's wand and tried to kill the same healer. No-one was hurt. Not badly, anyway. The other incident was similar, except it was my wand the patient got."

Harry stared in awe. Sirius had been through much more than Harry had thought.

"Oh, and did I tell you Harry? I'm your second godfather."

**A/N: Firstly, a flock-of-seagulls haircut looks like this: (the link thingy wouldn't work, so just go to google and search "flock of seagulls haircut".)**

**Secondly, thank you to the reviewers. Reviews make me happy, whether negative or positive. They also make me more likely to write.**

**Thirdly, I'm sorry if this chapter is messed up. I'm not too awake right now, so literary cheese may result.**


	8. Home at Last

All a Dream

Chapter 8

It wasn't until ten at night at the Burrow that Harry realised he was tired. So, with much regret, he had to ask the Weasleys to tell him where he lived.

"Oh, we'll drop you off, dear," said Mrs.Weasley. "If you were intending to Floo over to your house, our fireplace is a little clogged, so I'll get one of the triplets to drive you home. _Anthony, Fred, George! One of you drive Harry home this instant!_"

"Can't we all go, Mum?" pleaded Fred (or was it George? Anthony?) "We didn't get to talk to him much, and his house is on the way to our flat."

Mrs. Weasley hesitated, thinking. Then, "Fine, just don't come complaining to me when you start driving too fast and crash."

"Thanks Mum."

"You're the best, Mum."

"You bring the very sun into our lives, Mum."

Harry couldn't help but laugh, watching the three brothers march him out the door.

Once they were in the car, the triplets interrogated Harry within an inch of hysterics (laughter, not panic) about the secrets of Hogwarts. Had he found any passages that they hadn't, had he made new ones, had he found the Room of Requirement? On and on it went, until finally Anthony, driving, said, "So, what do you want to know from us, Harry?"

"Just ask anything," added George (back seat left).

"Within reason, of course," said Fred.

"Okay, then," Harry replied. "How do you tell each other apart?"

"Well, Harry, we thought about that," said George.

"Decided not to waste a perfectly good afternoon doing work," Anthony chimed in.

"So we went to the tattoo parlour down the street from us in Diagon Ally, and we each got tattoos charmed so that only we can see them."

"So Mum wouldn't kill us, y'know. She actually wanted to get us different haircuts, we couldn't have that."

"What did you get?" Harry asked.

"I got a little blue star on my neck, George got some weird argyle pattern on his hand," listed Anthony, "and Fred got a little _butterfly,_" he teased mockingly.

"Did not! It's a bloody fox, you dolt!"

Harry struggled to hide his laughter. "May I ask where it is?"

"It's on my wrist," Fred interrupted as George opened his mouth to reply.

.:. :.: .:.

"Well, here we are," said Anthony, stopping the car. "The humble abode of the Potters."

Harry stared out of the car window in amazement. His house was mostly hidden by the trees, but what Harry could see of it was perfect. It was a pale blue-green with white shutters and curtains. Two stories sprawled over the large amount of property. A small garden in front was becoming a little overgrown by weeds. As Harry walked up to the front step the lights on the top floor flicked on, and three pairs of eyes appeared on the sills of the windows, two pairs on the right, one on the left. Harry turned to wave goodbye to the triplets as they drove away, and then turned back around to find a small boy had opened the door. He was no older than eight, and he was the spitting image of Lily. The second Harry turned to face him, the boy jumped forward to hug Harry. "Welcome home, Harry," he said in a whispery voice that made Harry think the boy had a rather bad cold. Harry, realizing that this person was his brother, hugged him back, carrying him inside. Harry immediately recognised the couch from the picture he'd found in 12 Grimmauld Place. The rest of the room, however, was completely new to Harry. The walls were light yellow, and were decorated with wizard pictures of Lily and James, and other faces, some that Harry didn't recognize, but assumed were family and friends. Harry set his brother down on the floor, and said, "You'd better get to bed, before Mum and Dad find you awake, okay?"

"Okay, Harry," the little boy replied, beaming. "Come on, I'll show you your room."

Harry followed his brother up a winding staircase to the top floor of the house and to the first door on the left. The room that they entered was red with a gold stripe around the top, but the paint was obscured on one side with posters of rock bands and a Union Jack.

"You're sharing with Stew, but it's only for now." And, sure enough, Stew sat up on his bed, grinning. He looked more like James, but he was blond.

"Oy, nice to see you," he whispered, standing up and shaking Harry's hand. "I'm Stew, and I'll be your younger brother this evening."

**A/N: Soooo...how do you like it? This chapter took me longer than usual due to a short computer ban, lack of inspiration, and me having to go to practise for the Grad Ceremony Band, and I'm sorry. Anyways, I should have the next chapter written by tomorrow, but I'm not sure what I'll be doing between then and now. We'll have to see.**


	9. The Potter Residence

All a Dream

Chapter 9

"So, did any of us show up in your dream?" asked Stew after Harry cast Muffliato on the room. "Mum and Dad didn't say much. They just said you'd tell us what we wanted to know, if you wanted."

"No, I don't know anything about my siblings at all," Harry answered.

"Well," began Stew, "my full name is Stewart Michael, and I'm a year younger than you. We have two sisters, Mae Joanne, fifteen, and Erin Rose, ten. Your littlest brother, the one you just met, is Nigel Louis. His ninth birthday's in four days, but he had the party yesterday. And one of my friends from school, Andrew Collins, you'll meet him on the Hogwart's Express, comes here for most of the summer holidays. His parents disowned him when he left for Hogwarts."

Harry raised his eyebrows in shock. "Were his parents Muggles, then?"

"Nah," Stew responded matter-of-factly. "He just refused to go to Durmstrang like the rest of his family, didn't want to learn any Dark Arts stuff."

"Wow," said Harry, with concern.

"Yeah, well there's only so much one can do. No-one can change their opinions for them."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. He'd been there before.

The conversation continued well into the wee hours of the morning. Stew confessed, after some slight pestering from Harry, that he had a girlfriend at Hogwarts. She was small, brown-haired, and "definitely not from around here." Stew would say no more on that particular subject, but then went on to get Harry to say who he'd liked while in his coma. Eventually Harry confirmed the fact that he'd had a girlfriend, but wouldn't say who it was. He was pretty sure that Stew would laugh, or tell Ginny himself, which, somehow, Harry couldn't imagine in a positive light.

Just after 2:30 in the morning, Harry and Stew were still talking, but the amount of topics was thinning out. This lead to the next question Harry asked.

"Why are you blond? None of the rest of the family is, as far as I know. Did you dye your hair, or what?"

"Nope," said Stew. "It's a recessive gene. Aunt Petunia was blond, but Lily wasn't. No-one else in the family is blond."

"Hmmm..."

In the silence that followed, both Harry and Stew fell deeply asleep. Harry was very glad that he didn't have one single dream.

.:. :.: .:.

Harry awoke at 8:00 a.m. to the sound of several feet that were rather smaller than his own running down the hallway past his shared room. Groggily, Harry realized that he'd slept in the clothes he'd worn the day before. But he was too tired to care. Right now, he needed food. He plodded past his brother's empty bed, down the stairs to the living room, following the sound of the small feet. This brought him to the dining room, where toast with jam, bacon, and eggs were being served. Harry immediately became more awake at the sight and smell of food. For a while, he just stood there, gaping at the amount of food on the table before him.

"Harry? What do you want to eat, dear, we're going to Diagon Alley to shop for your school things, since you missed a year." asked his mother.

"_Harry! You're awake!_" squealed Nigel and an older girl with long red hair, but James's eyes, who Harry assumed was Erin. Shortly after, Harry felt the impact of two small bodies, one at his legs, and the other around his midriff. Caught unawares, Harry fell backwards into something that was a little shorter than he was. That something, or rather, someone said, "Ow, bloody hell, get off!"

Harry, stunned, rolled over to dislodge his brother and sister and got up to find he'd squished Mae, who had the waviness of hair that Stew did, but her hair was a mousy brown, like darker blond hair that hadn't seen the light of day for a while. Her eyes were green, like Lily's, but the shape of eye was her fathers, as was the rest of her face. "Ow," she repeated, getting up. Lily was attempting to hide her laughter, with little success. "They always have to be that enthusiastic, don't they? Oh, nice to see you, Harry." Mae hugged her eldest brother for a second, but then let go to take a seat at the table, smiling a little. Harry shook his head to clear it a little more, and sat beside his youngest sister, who was still grinning from ear to ear. He picked up a piece of toast, smeared some raspberry jam on the surface and took a large bite. Even though it was only toast, it was some of the best toast Harry had ever consumed. After swallowing, he asked "Where're Dad and Stew?"

"Dad's at work, and Stew's setting up for a Quidditch game," replied Erin. She seemed very eager to talk to her oldest brother. "He's invited a bunch of his friends, but I think they're one short, so they'd probably let you play too. Do you like Quidditch? Were you good at it in your dream? What position did you play?"

"Yeah, I love Quidditch. I was good enough to be Team Captain in my sixth year. Played Seeker."

"Really?" said Mae, intrigued. "That's the open position this year. You should try out for it."

It seemed that something warm and happy had appeared in Harry's stomach. Or maybe that was the toast. Either way, it made him feel elated.

"Do you play?" Harry asked Mae.

"Yep. I play Chaser, and I've been told that I'm pretty good."

"Are you going to play this afternoon?"

"Well..." Mae paused, as though she was trying to word things carefully. "I might just ref instead. It all depends on who's coming over." With the tone that she used, it seemed that some of Stew's friends did not like to abide by rules much. Harry smiled crookedly. Today could prove interesting.

**A/N: Yeah. This is one of my favourite chapters I've written. Yay!**

**Mae is a character I've used in other stuff. She's basically the same here as in my other stuff, but she's usually Canadian, and I had to change her eye colour from blue to green so that she could be related to Harry.**


	10. A Fine Game of Quidditch

All a Dream

Chapter 10

Breakfast being finished, Mae led Harry to the back yard. The sky today was so blue it was comical, and little puffs of cloud dotted the horizon. Mae and Harry found Stew setting up the goal hoops for Quidditch. These were different than Harry had remembered, because they did not require poles to hold them up. The six hoops merely hovered in mid air, way above the ground, no apparent support beneath them. Stew was just finishing using a Hovering Charm on the last one as Harry and Mae approached him from across the large field that was the back yard.

"Hey, Stew," said Mae. "Who's coming over today? Harry and I want to play, too."

"Um, Phil and Bobby Cruickshank," Stew began, " 'Haggis' MacAlistair, Dave Olson, Alexis Tessier, all the Weasleys except for Bill and Charlie, both had to go back to work today, and Andrew Collins will if he can borrow a fireplace."

"I should ref, since Haggis and Phil will be here," replied Mae. "They don't enjoy rules."

"Yeah, that'll be okay."

"Right, then. You need any more help with setting up? Any brooms need repair or polishing?"

Stew walked over to a large crate and opened it up. "Uh, yeah, your Cleansweep has a few bent twigs." Judging by his tone of voice, Stew seemed to be at fault for the twigs.

Mae took her broom, slung it over her shoulder, muttering about how she would never leave her broom in such horrible condition, and, stealing one last glare at her second eldest brother, jogged back to the house.

"Doesn't annoy easily at all, does she?" said Stew, rolling his eyes with sarcasm to spare.

.:. :.: .:.

At around 10 that morning, everyone playing Quidditch had arrived, including Andrew Collins, who arrived about half an hour early. He looked like a punk. He had a little silver hoop through his earlobe; his hair was spiked in all directions, most erratically at the front; he wore a black t-shirt with the same band name as on one of the band posters in Stew's room, and his dark jeans were cut off just below the knee and were beginning to fray. The only thing that betrayed his gloomy style was his enormous grin.  
The Cruickshank brothers arrived second, and couldn't be more different from each other. Bobby was tall and lanky, a mop of untidy brown hair framing his thin face and grey eyes. He looked old for only sixteen. Phil was at least 10 inches shorter, and rather bulkier. He was completely bald. Although Phil looked about 17, he said he was really 21. His eyes were round, but deep-set, and they always seemed to have a mischievous shine around the dark blue iris.  
Dave Olson arrived just a few seconds later. He looked...well...you couldn't say anything except Swedish. He was blond, blue-eyed, tall, and had a rather strong accent. He seemed a rather serious person at first glance, but he always had a little smile on his face, as though he'd just thought of the perfect one-liner to say to his boss to get him very close to being fired.

The next person to arrive, Henry 'Haggis' MacAlistair, was red haired, loud, jovial, and had a thick Scottish accent. His eyes were a dark brown, and seemed to have very little white around the iris. He was wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and no shoes.

Alexis Tessier was African. She'd had to change her full name because no-one could pronounce it, and she was Stew's age. She was tall and athletic, and wore clothes that most people would probably wear in late fall, instead of late summer. After complete introductions, Harry found out that she was Stew's girlfriend. _So _that's_ what he meant by "definitely not from around here"_, thought Harry. It certainly made sense.  
The Weasleys arrived last, due to "a small explosion. Nothing to worry about."

Each person drew the positions they would play from out of a hat, "just to shake things up a bit", according to Mae. Team 1 consisted of Alexis, Harry and Andrew as Chasers, Dave and Ron as Beaters, Anthony as Keeper, and Fred as Seeker. Team 2 had Ginny, George and Percy as Chasers, Stew and Phil as Beaters, Haggis as Keeper, and Bobby as Seeker.

.:. :.: .:.

The game started off immediately with light teasing between Haggis and Dave, along the lines of the classic (but rather immature) 'our team is way better than yours is'. This seemed to be a regular occurrence among the group of friends, and was never taken too seriously.  
After about five minutes, Mae ended the teasing, and released the Quaffle, Bludgers, and Snitch. Andrew almost immediately had possession of the Quaffle, and soared down the pitch. Harry raced behind him on a borrowed broom. As they approached the other end, Percy and George attempted to flank Andrew, but he dropped dramatically, and tossed the Quaffle up to Harry, who caught it. Harry found that he hated Chasing. The Quaffle felt uncomfortable under his arm, and he found it rather hard to hold onto. Somehow, he managed to get most of the way to the end of the pitch before he got a Bludger hit towards him by Phil. Harry ducked with both hands over his head. He shortly realized he'd dropped the Quaffle, and Ginny had caught it. She was really good. She sped past him in the opposite direction, laughing, and promptly scored a goal.

"Ten points to Team 2," announced Mae.

All of Team 2 cheered for a few seconds, gaining Fred enough time to spot the Snitch and race after it, Bobby right on his tail. Alexis and Harry then quickly scored two goals for Team 1, while George and Bobby tried to reach the Snitch. Unfortunately for Team 2, Bobby sneezed violently enough for him to nearly fall off his broom, letting Fred get the Snitch.

"Ref! Ref, rematch, unfair advantage!" complained Haggis, landing his broom.

"It was a clear win, Haggis, Team 1 wins the pick of ice cream flavour," Mae said, wiping away tears of laughter.

This made Haggis freeze with his mouth open about to say something else. "Ice cream flavour? That's all we were playing for?"

"Yeah," Mae replied.

Another pause. "Oh, okay."

**A/N: Yeah, I hate having to write descriptions of Quidditch. I'm not really big into football (and by football, I mean soccer), and it's the closest thing to Quidditch I can think of.**

**Dave Olson just so happens to be a guy I met last summer. Exactly the same. I only realized this just after I finished writing this chapter.**

**Oh, thanks very much to the reviewers, especially Amelie de Lorraine and siriuslives394 for all the questions. I love answering questions, and some of the questions asked were things I didn't even think to consider, and a few actually changed the content of the chapters and the direction in which I was going, plotwise. Thanks!**


	11. Shopping

All a Dream

Chapter 11

"Fifteen strawberry ice creams please, two scoops each," said Harry to the teen behind the counter of The Diagon Alley Dairy, after a quick head-count. The D.A. Dairy had over 100 flavours of ice cream, 53 flavours of frozen yogurt, and the possibility of five scoops per cone.

The girl behind the counter gave Harry a strange look, but then looked slightly past him to the crowd of fourteen young witches and wizards sitting outside on the patio. "Okay, if you're sure." After some quick wand work, fifteen strawberry ice creams sat in trays with strategically placed holes to hold the cones. "That'll be 22 galleons and twenty sickles, please."

Harry paused. "Can you hold these a moment?"

The girl at the counter took the trays as Harry ran outside. "We need another 10 galleons, people."

Everyone brought out their change from their pockets, and each person chipped in just enough, slightly unevenly.

The ice cream was delicious, but it melted fast, so the whole group ended up having to wash their hands. It was then that the group separated to go home or get school supplies. Andrew (who said to call him Drew) ended up with the Potters. "I stayed with Gran this last week, but she got fed up with me. Can I stay with you until school starts?"

"That'll be fine with us," said Lily, who had met up with her three older children at The Burned Cauldron (what Harry had dreamed the Leaky Cauldron to be) along with James, Nigel and Erin. The latter was going to Hogwarts this year, and she could hardly contain her excitement.

"I thought that people started Hogwarts at eleven," said Harry to Mae.

"They do," she replied. "Erin's birthday is in mid-September."

At 1:30, Lily suggested that the family, Drew included, should split up to shop. "That way we'll be done faster, and Andrew, Stew and Harry can start to clean the room. Mae, Erin, Drew and Harry can go to Ollivander's to find a wand, I'll go to the new book store, and James, Stew and Nigel can go to Madam Malkin's, you all need new robes." Lily seemed to be a goal-oriented type of person.

.:. :.: .:.

Ollivander's was rather different than the old, tiny shop Harry had known. Instead of boxes stacked on top of each other, there were shelves upon shelves of wands, each categorized by type of wood, and the core: Phoenix feather, dragon heartstring, griffon talon, or unicorn hair, or yale horn. The room was painted a sort of ivory with blue trim, and the many shelves were untainted cedar. The only thing about Ollivander's that had not changed was the owner himself, who stepped out from behind one of the last shelves when he heard the door open.

"Ah, yes, hello Erin," Erin simply nodded shyly and backed up a little bit towards her older sister. "Oh, Mr. Potter, it's nice to see you awake! You have your father's old wand, correct, eleven inches, holly and Phoenix feather?"

"Yeah," said Harry blandly.

"And Andrew Collins, yale horn, pine, 12 and a half inches, very thin, yes?"

"Yeah, nearly blew up the whole shop with the first wand I tried didn't I?" It seemed that Drew knew Mr. Ollivander rather better than Harry or Mae did, or at least was less shy.

Mr. Ollivander chuckled. "I remember that headache very well indeed, Mr. Collins.  
"And Mae Potter, one of my most difficult customers. Nine and three quarter inches, ebony, griffon talon."

"Yes, Mr. Ollivander." It appeared Mae had a certain wary respect for the old wand maker.

"Now, Erin Potter, which is your wand hand," enquired Ollivander, taking out his measuring tape.

"My left one," she said quietly, her lips barely moving.  
Mr. Ollivander began the measuring, left the measuring tape to do its work, and Mae, Harry and Drew sat on some chairs by the window. The first wand Erin tried was very short, and when she twitched her hand a little, one of the legs on the desk in front of her crumbled and burst into flame. Ollivander quickly extinguished the fire and repaired the desk, taking away the wand very quickly. After about ten minutes, Erin had gotten a ten inch wand of ash with a griffon talon core. The first spell she cast was Expelliarmus. It was quite a bit of wand work for someone so inexperienced. She'd made Mae drop her wand, though she hadn't made it fly as was supposed to happen.

.:. :.: .:.

Back at the Potter household, Harry, Drew and Stew were made to clean up the room and make it suitable for three people to sleep in. This was not as bad a task as had first been anticipated, seeing as how it was quite a large room, and most of the clothes on the floor were clean. The few dirty ones that were found were simply thrown into the laundry hamper for someone else to deal with. A small argument ensued as to who would have to sleep in the sleeping bag. Eventually, the beds were deemed useless, and everyone slept on the floor. Well, they said slept. Who can really believe that three teenage boys aren't going to stay up talking all night? The parental units just took this fact as inevitable.

**A/N: This is one of the shorter chapters in this story. The next chapter will be longer. Oh, and yes, the fact that Drew's and Stew's names rhyme was intentional.**

**P.S. I'VE BEEN WRITING THIS FIC FOR ONE MONTH EXACTLY!**


	12. A Sorting of Sorts

All a Dream

Chapter 12

The next week passed by quickly for Harry. He had tonnes of reading to do if he wanted to do well this year. He often had to help look after his youngest brother, which meant that concentrating on reading was made difficult.  
It also became apparent that Drew and Stew were trouble-makers, sometimes being substitutes for the twins at Harry's dream-Hogwarts (the portable swamp had been their idea).  
Another fact that became apparent at the Potter household was that Mae kept to herself a lot, and that this trait had only begun this year. The members of the family each had their own hypothesis, the most realistic one being James', that she was keeping up with work so that she could properly perform her prefect duties this year.  
Harry got a letter three days before the first day of Hogwarts. It read:

_Dear Mr. Harry Potter,_

_It has come to my attention that you have gained consciousness, and wish to attend Hogwarts. There are several details that need to be cleared up beforehand; first and foremost, which house you will be in, secondly, which year you will join.  
You and your parents must attend a meeting with me the 31__st__ of August, 1:00 p.m. to sort these matters out. Meet me in my office, please._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress_

"So, Dumbledore is dead?" said Harry after reading the letter to his parents.

"Yes, dear," replied his father. "He was very old; it wasn't much of a shock."

"But...well..." Harry stuttered, "He was murdered, wasn't he?"

"No, Harry, he just..."

"Kicked the bucket," interrupted Erin enthusiastically.

"Erin!" said Lily sternly. "Show more respect, Dumbledore was a great man!"

"But Mum, Stew said it first," Erin whined.

"And you should know better than to listen to everything your brother says," answered James.

Harry was bent double, trying to hide his laughter at Erin's exact tone. He could have sworn he'd heard several similar conversations at the Burrow, and Erin looked and sounded so much like Ginny.

At the very thought of Ginny, Harry's mind froze. He hadn't really gotten to speak to her properly about their relationship as Harry had known it, and he was too unsure about how to phrase it. It wasn't as though he could just walk up to her and say "Well, Ginny, you probably didn't know this, but you used to be my girlfriend", although that was probably the best approach. Harry's only unembarassing choice was to hope that she already knew, and then let her bring up the subject.

"Harry? Harry, are you okay?" Erin was waving her hand in front of her brother's face.

Harry crashed back into conscious thought. "Oh, yeah, Erin, I'm fine."

"Sorry," she said. "It's just, your eyes kind of glazed over. Mum was asking you what you wanted for dinner, too."

"Food would be awesome, thanks."  
"Really specific, Harry."

.:. :.: .:.

On August the 31st, Harry and his parents were getting ready to go to their meeting with Professor McGonagall. The fireplace in the basement had the jar of Floo Powder next to it.

"Mae remember, Drew and Stew are at the Burrow until 3:00, Nigel and Erin should stay off the tele and computer till we get back," said Lily authoritatively. "We shouldn't be longer than an hour."

"Yes, mum. See you guys soon."

Harry took a pinch of Floo Powder from the jar and watched the flames begin to roar and turn green. He stepped into the fire and said "Hogwarts" before being whisked through the network of fireplaces. With a quick 'whoosh' sound, he found himself deposited on the rug of what was now McGonagall's office. It was a bit different from the time Harry thought he knew it. The spindly silver instruments on the table were gone, and had been replaced by a few books, the Sorting Hat, and a stack of papers. All the portraits of the former headmasters and headmistresses were still there, and the portrait of Dilys was whispering in the ears of the other portraits.  
Two more 'whoosh' sounds signalled the arrival of Lily and James.

"Ah, good afternoon, Lily, James. It's good to see you back Harry," said Professor McGonagall from behind a neat desk. "Come, sit down." She waved her wand, and three chairs glided from the wall, coming to a stop just in front of her desk. Harry took the middle chair, James on his right, Lily on his left.

"Now, about which house you shall be in. You were in Gryffindor in your dream, correct Mr. Potter?"

"Yes," replied Harry.  
Professor McGonagall nodded her head. "This may still apply to you, Mr. Potter, but several things seem to have changed for you since you woke up. You did not realize you had siblings, I believe. This may also have changed some of your characteristics." Harry began chewing the inside of his cheek. He couldn't imagine not being in Gryffindor. It had been his home for the past six years, excluding the camping trip. "Okay."

"So, Harry, here's the Sorting Hat," said McGonagall, waving her wand at it so that it zoomed into her hand. "Try it on." Harry took the old, tatty hat, turned it around in his hands examining it. Finally, being unable to hold off the moment any longer, he placed the hat on his head, and in contrast to the first year's heads, it seemed to fit him perfectly. Still, though, the Sorting Hat managed to whisper in his ear. "Oh, so you're Harry Potter are you? Some very brave acts you appear to have done, no doubt about that. Not a bad mind, though you don't seem to have cared much about homework in the past. Trouble with rules, but good at Quidditch. You're a Gryffindor, through and through." Harry sighed in relief, his parents beaming, and Professor McGonagall was even smiling a bit.

"Now that that's out of the way, we have to determine which year you'll be in. As I understand it, you skipped out of school your seventh year, yes?" Harry confirmed this. "Right, then it would only be logical that you begin your seventh year tomorrow. However, I should see the extent of your magic before I place you in your classes. If you would please show me a first level spell..." and on it went until Harry had performed various spells from all the year levels of increasing complexity. Harry thought it was like his OWL practical exam in charms and transfiguration. Finally, McGonagall said he was eligible for seventh year. Harry was in Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, DADA, and Herbology. These were all the classes required for him to become an Auror.

**A/N: This last week, I was shopping with my mom at the closest mall to us. Driving home, I saw the exact same shape of car as Ron's when it's transfigured. That made me scream with laughter, because I didn't even know that shape of car existed when I'd made up Lemonhead. Mom asked me what was wrong, I told her, and now she's finally read what amount of this fic I've finished, none of the others. sniffle.  
I also forgot to say that one of my favourite types of candy is called "Lemonheads." For those who don't have access to those candies, I shall describe them. They are little balls of sour sugar that taste slightly citrus-y. They're yellow. Eat them. Unless you don't like candy or are allergic to it or something.**


	13. The Train

All a Dream

Chapter 13

Platform 9.75 was crowded with witches and wizards, and filled with the steam from the 9:45 Train. Harry looked at the great, black steam engine that stood before him, mismatched passenger cars trailing behind. Drew and Stew found Bobby Cruickshank and decided to sit with him and a few of his friends. Mae had to sit in the Prefect's compartment and tour the aisles of the train. Much as Harry would like to sit with the former, he had volunteered (much to Erin's happiness) that Harry would sit with Erin the entire trip. After slightly tearful goodbyes – and promises to write as often as possible - the brother and sister gave a final wave to their parents and Nigel as they stepped on the train.  
Harry and Erin were trying to find a compartment when Ginny came up to them and announced that she would be sitting with them.

"What, don't we get a choice as to whether we sit with you or not?" joked Harry.

"Why would you want one of those?" retorted Ginny with humour.

Eventually they found an empty compartment with leather seats and gratuitous graffiti on the walls, mostly consisting of the classic "So-and-so was here Day/Month/Year" and "Initials + Initials equals heart". There was one entry (or rather, a series of entries) that was like a small journal of "Vanessa's" seven trips to and from Hogwarts, her neatness of writing slowly improving over time. This seemed to intrigue Erin in a mild way, and she sat there in her seat, reading and re-reading the 'journal'. This, however, only took about five minutes, and vague boredom swept across the compartment. For the next half hour, the conversation turned, once again, to Harry's coma. It turned out that, as in a regular dream, this dream drifted further and further away from reality as Harry progressed. No-one had missed any school, there weren't any battles (except there had been a mock duel in the corridors between Severn and Remus), and the Defence Against the Dark Arts course had gone as usual. The closest he'd been to reality (and the time he'd seemed the closest to waking) was when he visited Mr. Weasley in St. Mungo's for Christmas.

"I have to go to the bathroom," interrupted Erin.

"Then you can go, it's just down the hall," replied Ginny.

Erin nodded meekly and exited the booth into the aisle.

Ginny smiled after her. "Nice kid." Harry nodded. This was the first time he'd been alone with Ginny, and he was feeling awkward. Evidently, so was Ginny.

The silence was held for an infinite moment. Finally, "The Healers contacted me two years ago," said Ginny. "They said that I was your girlfriend." She blushed during the last sentence, which didn't seem like a very Ginny-ish thing to do. "That being the case, they let me look at some of your memories with us together. You're a really nice guy. You treated me like nobody else I've dated has. In short, I know you inside out, but I don't think you know all that much about me. So would you like to hang out with me the first free weekend?"

Free weekend was a new concept to Harry. "Free weekend?" he repeated.

"Yeah, you can go to the nearest campsite for camping and stuff, go swimming in the lake or river, and stay at Hogwarts. I think there's a beach somewhere, too, but only seventh years are allowed, you have to apparate. Oh, and the village, Godrick's Hollow is there. There're all kinds of shops there."

"Then in that case," said Harry, "I'd love to hang out with you the first free weekend." A thrill of excitement went through him. Suddenly something clicked. "Wait, Godrick's Hollow? I thought it was Hogsmead."

"Nope, Godrick's Hollow. You used to live there; it's where Voldemort was killed. Your family moved to a bigger house when they had Mae, there weren't enough bedrooms. Hogsmead is the separate wizard community in London, the Diagon Alley area. But I think there's a place with the same name in Canada, northern Manitoba. We aren't allowed out of Britain, though. That rule's been broken a lot. Seeing family is an option, too. That's the one exception to the 'stay in Britain' rule, if there're foreign students."

Harry had to laugh at the thought of who would have broken that regulation. He'd have to ask his dad about it later.  
Erin then returned to get her Hogwarts robes with a grimace (the robes were hand-me-downs from Mae); the small group changed, and began gazing out the windows for the first sign of the school, even though they were hours away. Around three-o-clock, Mae had finished her prefect duties and came to sit with the unit of friends.

"There's way too much stuff for the Prefects to do," Mae complained. "I've got to keep all the Gryffindors in line, set a good example to them, not break any rules myself, keep up my marks – which is hard enough to do what with OWLs this year – and not lash out at the Slytherins. Even if it's tradition." She put her head in her hands and sighed. "If this is what it's like being a Prefect, I can't imagine what it's like being Head Girl. I'll never tease Percy about it again.

"Percy was _Head __**Girl**_?" joked Harry in mock horror. This remark caused him to have two hats thrown in his general direction. Erin was laughing too hard to make it three.

**A/N: OOH! Unlucky thirteen!**

**The quality of this chapter may have wavered, I'm not sure. It's hard for me to concentrate when the movie Blues Brothers 2000 is being watched. **_**"Stop that mound of moss!"**_

**The "Hogsmead" in northern Manitoba is a part of my novel. It's "actually" called Midnowhere, and has a different style of magic from the Harry Potter books. Different world entirely.**


	14. Malfoy

All a Dream

Chapter 14

Hogwarts came into view at around seven, when the sun had just set behind the train. The lake was facing to the west of the castle instead of south, and the Forbidden Forest seemed less ominous due to the fact that deciduous trees were integrated with the coniferous. But most of the little windows glowed bright, tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness. Harry stared in awe at the sight before him, as did Erin. She was jabbering away the whole time about how cool it looked, asking questions about which rooms were which. Harry stayed silent, savouring the moment. Much to his disappointment, a hedge soon took away the "Kodak moment", and was soon replaced by the Godrick's Hollow Train Station.  
As Harry, Mae, Ginny and Erin exited the train and stepped onto the cramped platform, they heard two carrying voices, one being recognizable as Hagrid's, and the other was Remus Lupin's. "Firs' years to the dock, this way!" "Over here, first years, the boats are over here!" Harry looked to his left in response to the two familiar vocals, and stumbled back in shock. Hagrid had no beard. The wild whiskers as Harry had known them did not appear on the half-giant's face no matter how many times Harry blinked his eyes. "Where's Hagrid's beard?" he asked Ginny and Mae.

"He shaves it off every summer," said Mae.

"He said it got too hot for him. He grows it back with hair-thickening solution each year on the first of November," Ginny added.

The three older students said good luck to Erin as she nervously made her way through the witches and wizards towards Professors Lupin (who looked less tired and happier than Harry remembered) and Hagrid. Harry looked after her, remembering his boat ride across the lake in his first year.

"Come on, Harry," said Mae, tugging at the sleeve of his robe. Harry looked away from his youngest sister, smiling, and walked towards the horseless carriages, which were actually horseless. The small group couldn't find an empty carriage, so they sat with two shy second year boys, one from Ravenclaw, the other from Slytherin. They introduced themselves as Alan Theissen and John Desjardins. Harry looked warily towards John, the Slytherin, but decided to keep an open mind. Not all of them had to be evil. His heritage may have overruled his character.

Once in the Great Hall, Harry and Mae reunited with Drew and Stew near the Head Table. They sat closest to the front so that hey could see the Sorting better. While they waited, someone walked up to Harry, said hello, and sat beside him. "Hey, Harry, do you remember me?" Harry stared. The person was unmistakably Draco Malfoy, blonde hair, grey eyes, and thin face. But at the same time he was so different. The arrogance had left him, and he was talking to Harry in a civil manner. His hair wasn't slicked back, as had been his habit, but he had a cowlick in front that seemed as though it would be impossible to flatten. In a quick flashback, Harry saw an infant Draco, smiling and playing with a foam puzzle. Harry was surprised. Had he been friends with Malfoy?

**A/N: Yay! A small cliff-hanger.**

**Sorry. This is randomly about 1/2 the length of the last chapter. Don't know why, really.**


	15. Let the Classes Begin

All a Dream

Chapter 15

Draco looked at Harry with concern. "Is everything alright, Harry? You look kind of mad."

"Oh," Harry was a bit taken back. Draco had never before taken an interest in how he was feeling. "No, I'm just trying to think. I remember you totally differently."

"Hmm..." Draco seemed interested now. "You probably wouldn't remember me well, no. I mean, you were only one when Oldie Voldie came after you. So, I believe introductions are in order. I'm Drake Malfoy. Our mums work in the same department at the Ministry of Magic." Harry blinked once. So this person was, quite basically, the real Draco Malfoy. The 'fake Draco' had been like a doppelganger, the evil twin. Even the names were different, if only slightly.

"Wow," said Harry. "What house are you in?"

"Ravenclaw, seventh year, had to start a year late," Drake replied. "Oh, here are the firsties. See you." And he hurried off to the table across the hall as the large group of first years entered the Great Hall, all of them looking rather nervous. Harry caught sight of Erin in the small mob, and she looked absolutely terrified, shaking from head to toe.

"Attention, attention please!" shouted Remus over the students. "When I call your name, you will sit on this chair and put on the Sorting Hat. But now, a few words from our...um...sponsor."

Remus placed the Sorting Hat on the chair, but the Sorting Hat did not sing. Instead, it said, "That's right. I'm a hat. I shouldn't be able to speak, but let's face it; I'm not your regular hat. No, I'm going to look in your head, whisper your strongest qualities in your ear, and then say in which house you belong: Gryffindor, bravery and chivalry; Hufflepuff, loyalty and diligence; Ravenclaw, wit and wisdom; and Slytherin, cleverness and ambition." With each house listed, the said table would cheer. "Now let the Sorting begin!"

Harry paid little attention until his sister's name was called.

"Potter, Erin."

His little sister pushed through the crowd to get to the stool. Halfway, she stumbled a bit and blushed a deep pink right up to her hairline. Erin sat on the chair, placed the hat on her head and waited. It was only a few seconds before the Sorting Hat shouted out "_Hufflepuff!_" Surprised, Erin took off the hat and walked the short distance to the Hufflepuff table, a slightly blank look on her face. The Hall all clapped politely, the rest of the Potters bewildered. This was, evidently, the first time a Potter had been sorted out of Gryffindor. Harry decided to keep unprejudiced; after all, he had nearly been sorted into Slytherin. All this meant was that Erin was a hard worker, and was dedicated. Those were both excellent qualities, not to be overlooked.

But still, it was a bit of a shock.

.:. :.: .:.

The next morning, classes began. Harry had Defence Against the Dark Arts first, and he couldn't wait to see Remus. Next, he had double Transfiguration with Professor Delgado, and then Potions with Professor Snape. Potions would be interesting, because this Snape would probably be very different from the Snape Harry knew, and he had no idea what to expect.

The DADA class was huge. It seemed like half the seventh year students from each house wanted to continue Defence, so the class had twice the number of students it should have.  
Professor Lupin looked amazingly happy as he walked into the classroom. He didn't look all that tired, not like Harry recalled, and his hair was slightly lighter, and less grey.

"Wands out, books away, please put your bags by the door." While the DADA class was placing their bags in a haphazard pile, Professor Lupin was vanishing the desks.

"Um, Professor?" asked one student, her hand raised.

"Yes, Alanna?"

"Won't we need the desks later, for other classes?"

"Naturally. I have just moved them to the potions facility for now."

The class laughed a bit. Harry was confused. Surely Snape would be irate if Lupin had put approximately forty extra desks in his classroom, right at the beginning of a class. Wouldn't he?

"And so the year begins with another fine prank," Stew muttered, grinning widely.

"They're always like this?" Harry asked his brother.

"Oh, yeah, Snape'll have done something before this class is done, just wait," Stew chuckled. "It's all friendly stuff, see. It's never gotten out of control."

"Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of the class, Stew?"

"Just explaining something to my brother, Professor."

Professor Lupin smiled. "Ah yes, welcome back, Harry. The jokes are nothing to worry about, they happen every day without fail.  
"Today we start with Patronises..."

**A/N: How did you like it? Was it horrible? Tolerable? Awesome?**

**Oh, I'm now taking requests as to what should happen next. I expect to see a huge amount of e-mails in my inbox over the next week. I'll probably mix it up a little. But, for the next long time I'm not going to be able to write, because I'm going to visit my grandparents and other miscellaneous family. Fun, but not much computer access.**

**Oh, and check out my fic _Thomas Marvolo Riddle_. It's fun. And then vote. PLEASE! Reviews are accepted with open arms, too. And thanks to those who already reviewed. :)**


	16. Transfiguration and Potions

All a Dream

Chapter 16

On his way to Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Transfiguration, Harry was walking with Ginny and talking with her about the previous class. He'd been rather impressed with her Patronus, which was a horse, and lasted almost as long as his Patronus, still a stag. They and one of Harry's dorm mates, Lucas Von Hauff, were the ones with the least homework. They only needed to write a two-foot essay on Patronises and their workings, double-spaced, instead of the practice and three foot essay the rest of the class needed to do.

As the pair walked into the Transfiguration room, a capacious classroom with a line of desks around the perimeter, the teacher, Professor Delgado, greeted them. He was short, thin, and looked Hispanic, but his accent was North American. "Hello, Ginny. And Harry Potter, right? Nice to see you back Mr Potter. The seats are arranged alphabetically, so once the rest of the class gets here, we'll find where to place you. Just sit anywhere for now." So Harry and Ginny sat at desks beside each other near the door.  
Once the rest of the class had arrived, Professor Delgado took his place at the front of the room. "This is, as you know, the N.E.W.T Transfiguration class. This year is absolutely crucial, considering as how this is your final year as Hogwarts students before being thrust into the working ranks of civilization as we know it. Now, I'm sorry for the workload I'm about to place on you, but it is necessary for your proper advancement. Please open your textbooks to page 7, and follow the instructions."

And indeed, the instructions were among the most difficult Harry had ever seen, though he thought he could probably complete it. The directions said to turn the object given you to a liquid. Not water, but a thick liquid comprised of the object itself. While his students were reading, Professor Delgado distributed several potted plants; they did not appear to be any different from the average Muggle house plant. When the professor had taken his place at the front of the class again, he made the directions a bit more specific. "Take note of the dry quality of the earth in the plant pot in front of you. Professor Sprout needs these plants to survive a little longer than water can provide, so you are to liquefy the middle portion of the dirt. You can do this by digging a small hole in the dirt, and casting the spell through it. You may want to keep your wand at some distance from the dirt." The classmates all exchanged looks, some enquiring, and some mischievous. Stew's and Drew's (across the room from each other) were the latter, and Harry tried to edge away from Stew a little; he would probably get hurt if he stayed too close. "Now, has everyone got their holes dug?" There was a general muttering of the word yes. "Okay. _Liquifacere._"

As the class repeated after Professor Delgado, Stew's plant pot exploded from the middle, covering everyone in the area with small pieces of pottery and brown goo. The plant was hurled across the room and smacked the professor in the face. "Five points from Gryffindor for not following cautions. Five points to Gryffindor for getting the spell itself on the first try. One point to Gryffindor for making one of the most impressive explosions I've ever seen done with that particular spell. Excellent job. _Scourgify_." The class laughed, even the Hufflepuffs.

Harry ended up getting the spell on the third try, but he ended up liquefying all of the pot as well. Homework was to practice. A lot. And to read the next chapters in the unit of changing the state of matter, answering the questions at the end of each chapter in full sentences.

.:. :.: .:.

Ginny didn't have Potions with him, so Harry met up with Stew, Drew, and Alexis after class.

"What's Snape like?" enquired Harry.

The three others chuckled. "He's...what one might call a character," Drew replied. "He's got a sense of humour, though he hardly laughs. He's kind of strict, but okay if you don't annoy him."

"How many times have you yourselves annoyed him?"

Stew grinned. "At least thirty times a year."

"Once or twice a year. Not a big deal," Alexis chimed in.

"I've lost count," Drew finished as the company passed the stairs down to the dungeons.

Harry blinked once. He'd just basically been following Stew and all that lot, and hadn't realized they weren't going to the downstairs. "Why aren't we going to the dungeons?"

"Not enough ventilation," said Stew. "We go there when the potions and ingredients we work with react to air circulation. Today, we're on fifth floor." Harry simply nodded.

When they arrived at the Potions room, there was a small throng of students standing outside it. Snape had obviously not arrived yet.  
He arrived just before the bell, along with someone Harry recognised with a jolt. It was none other than Hermione Granger. She had hair that was more wavy than frizzy, and she wore glasses, but other than that, she seemed exactly the same. She walked with an air of distinct knowledge, and was talking a mile a minute about the ingredients that needed to be restocked, and the ones that they had overstocked on.

Severn Snape himself was tall, with a pale, but not pallid, skin tone. His eyes were light blue, and greatly contrasted with his black hair, which he kept cropped very short. He continued to wear black, as Harry remembered, minus the cape.

The door was unlocked, and the class followed Professor Snape and Hermione into the large, orange classroom (It was a kind of neon orange. It ensured that no-one would ever fall asleep) with lab tables, almost identical to some of the Muggle ones Harry had sometimes seen on the tele, only they didn't have sinks.  
"Okay, class. For those who have only just arrived this year, I am Professor Severn Snape. I did not ask for my first and last name to alliterate. You may tease me about it if you want, as long as the joking is in good taste." At these words, he looked at Stew and Drew meaningfully. Harry tried to imagine what they would have said to Professor Snape, but kept on drawing a blank. "It would also be prudent for me to introduce the teaching intern with us for this year, Hermione Granger, who wishes to teach at Hogwarts herself after the retirement of Professor Barkley in the Ancient Runes department this year. She does not like long walks on the beach, because she would much rather be at home reading." Some light tittering from the class.

The first potion they had to concoct was Veritiserum, and they could only finish it half way, due to the fact that it needed to age properly.

"Now that you have finished your potions," said Professor Snape, smiling. The class had finished. Not everyone's potion was the clear blue needed. Harry and his partner, Devon Stubbs (a rather wiry boy with white-blonde streaks in his shaggy, brown hair that covered his eyes.), had made their Veritiserum a teal colour instead of blue, but it would at least let them pass. "You may now bottle your potions, and place them on Hermione's desk."

As Harry placed his phial on her desk, Hermione whispered urgently to him, "Harry! I need to talk to you at dinner, okay?"

A little wondering, Harry said okay, and he'd gladly talk to her.

"Great! I'll see you later, then."

"One last thing though," announced the professor. "For those in the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, please tell Professor Lupin that the desks were most useful. I hope he finds them to his artistic liking."

* * *

**A/N: So...this is a chapter, I guess. This is probably one of my favourites, because all the teachers I have written about so far are fashioned after my mother's and my science teachers. One of the aspects of the teachers is the constant pranks. In my mum's science class, the Profs would walk into each other's classrooms during a lecture or demonstration, and take necessary equipment. With my teachers, they involve the students more. My study hall class was once told to tell the next shift teacher that the mice were in the desk. It ended up freaking the next shift teacher out really badly.**

**The other aspect was the slight insanity and liking of small explosions. It is a regular occurrence for the chemistry teacher to be seen running for the nearest exit with some smoking, acrid chemical.**

**Now, my pretties! REVIEW! (Cackling laughter!)**


	17. A Young Child and Quidditch Tryouts

All a Dream

Chapter 17

Hermione ran up to Harry as he entered the Great Hall for dinner. "Hi Harry!" She hugged him enthusiastically. "Grab a plate and some food; let's go to Hagrid's."

Harry was caught slightly off guard. But he took a plate of chicken, potatoes, carrots and a piece of cheese anyways. Hermione appeared to have already eaten.

Outside it was cold and damp, not quite raining, though the precipitation was inevitable; this was England, after all. Hagrid's small, white bungalow stood out against the Forbidden Forest, the vegetable patch in the side yard filled with pumpkins and squash.  
When Hermione knocked on the large, blue door, there were several sounds at once: the barking of a dog, Hagrid's heavy footsteps, and a crying infant. Hagrid pulled open the door. "Oh, come in, come in. I'm just gonna tend to little Johnny – shush, Fang – and then I'll get us some tea." And the half-giant bustled into a nearby hallway and through a door. Harry looked over at Hermione, confused, but she just smiled back and they sat down at the oversized table.

The room Harry was in was a kitchen and dining room. All of this had been scaled to Hagrid's life-style, so everything was about twice as large as normal. Beyond this was a sitting room with a fireplace, rocking chair, and bookshelf, Winnie-the-Pooh being predominant. Some pictures above the fireplace were of Hagrid and a familiar, tall lady Harry knew as Madame Maxime. In one of the pictures she was in a wedding dress, and Hagrid was in a tuxedo. Another picture showed them together on a beach, and a third showed them outside their house, waving at the camera.

Hagrid returned soon, with a now quiet baby in his arms. The infant looked rather like Hagrid, but with much darker skin, and he was kicking his legs vigorously, making him hard to hold. When he was set down on the floor, he wiggled around on his front, trying to reach the table leg. "Well, Harry, it's nice teh see yeh back," said Hagrid, grinning. "And good teh see you too, Hermione. How's the internship comin' along?"

"Fairly well. It's too bad that Professor Barkley wasn't accepting an intern this year, so I can't get an exact look at what I'm signing up for, but Professor Snape was good enough to accept, and any kind of teaching experience will help with my degree."

"Aye, Professor Snape's a good teacher.

"Oh, I've forgotten to introduce, yeh, Harry. This is Johnny, my son," Hagrid said proudly, picking up the active child and placing him on the sturdy table. Johnny looked at Harry and gazed at him a moment. Then a huge smile grew on the baby's face, showing off his two teeth. Harry couldn't help but smile back, and Hermione giggled a bit. "How old is he now, Hagrid?"

"Five months, two days, seven hours, twenty five minutes and counting." Harry noticed large, dark circles under Hagrid's eyes.

"Colicky, right?" asked Hermione, holding out her hand for John to take (and he could envelop her hand in his. What else would you expect from a half-giant baby?) and drool on.

"You wouldn't believe," Hagrid replied. "Olympe and I've been up every few hours with him. An' only reading Winnie-the-Pooh puts him to sleep properly. Silly Muggle stuff. But still, he's my son, an' I've got to deal with him." Hagrid smiled kindly at his happy child.

.:. :.: .:.

The next few weeks passed with few events. The teachers Harry had were all very fair, though they still piled on the work. Neither Stew nor Drew made anything explode again.  
The Quidditch tryouts were the third week of school, and Harry signed up immediately. The openings for the Gryffindor team were Seeker and one Beater. Harry noticed that in Slytherin's case, they were getting almost a completely new team, only their Keeper was staying, while teams like Hufflepuff and Gryffindor needed only one or two new people. Ravenclaw didn't need anyone new.

And so, on the 16th of September, Harry, Bobby Cruickshank, and many other students in the bleachers were waiting for tryouts to begin. Harry had "mysteriously" found a new broom in his trunk while unpacking the first night. He was fairly sure that his father had gotten it on their day in Diagon Alley, while he was helping shop for Erin's wand. It was a Flying Star 24, and though he hadn't tried it yet, Harry could tell it was a pretty fast broom, just from the aerodynamic shape and the way it felt in his hands.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team stepped out of the dressing rooms onto the field. Harry recognised a guy from his classes, and Mae, Ginny and Stew were in the middle of the line. The last one looked to be about third year, but very at ease with his broom.

The team Captain, a seventh year by the name of Eric Sanderson, stepped forward. "First off, let's do a few laps around the pitch." Harry and Bobby immediately mounted their brooms and took off, the younger students left behind. And Harry was flying. The Flying Star reminded him of his Nimbus, though that wasn't technically a broom company in this world. This real broom wasn't as fast as the Firebolt, but it gave him similar control.

Once the laps were finished – Harry and Bobby had been leading the pack – Eric spoke again. "Now, since there're two open positions this year, we're going to split you in two groups, one for potential Beaters, the other potential Seekers. Seekers, over here." He pointed to Harry's right. "Beater's over here. William and I'll be with the Seekers, Mae, Stew and Ginny with the Beaters."

Harry walked to one end of the pitch, about a quarter of the others following him. He was slightly surprised when Bobby was walking to the Beater's group – Bobby was more the build you would expect of a Seeker – but he may not have had the reflexes required. Harry was unsure. He remembered the way that Bobby had flown during the informal game at home, and if even a sneeze could take him off course like that, then maybe he would be better at Beating.

Eric and the third year named William were carrying a small crate between them when the Seekers group got to their end of the pitch.

"Okay, so you lot want to be Seekers, yes?" asked Eric. The group all muttered things like 'yeah'. "Good. Okay, we'll set up some obstacles for you to go through first, and then see how good you are with reflexes." And when the two Quidditch players opened the crate, they took out several small cardboard boxes, which they enlarged and levitated. "Okay, first years go first; seventh year - that means you, Harry - go last." Harry chuckled.

The first years were not that bad at flying, considering that the instructors would make the boxes lunge at the potential Seekers at unexpected moments. The second years were not much better, but the third years were rather good. There was only one fourth year, and she used different manoeuvring techniques than Harry knew. Fifth years weren't amazing at dodging, but when it came to speed they weren't bad. Sixth years just sucked out loud.  
Harry wasn't a fair judge as to how he did for the navigation test; he was obviously biased towards himself. But he thought he did pretty well. None of the boxes were impaled upon the front of his broom, at any rate.

The next test was to see how efficiently people could catch. Everyone did about equally, the first years being a little bit worse. Finally, Eric and William brought out the Snitch. They partnered up the students to see who could catch the Snitch first. Harry was partnered with the fourth year, and they were both fairly good. Harry caught the Snitch, though, and he got it fastest out of the whole Seekers group.

The Beater's tryouts weren't quite done when the Seeker's were finished, so they all watched the much larger group wielding the bats, some of them more dangerously than others. Stew was desperately trying to calm down the younger candidates while the older students were being given instruction.

Finally, the tryouts were over and the incomplete team went into a loose huddle away from the bleachers. It didn't take them long to decide on the new Seeker. Harry was officially the new Seeker, and he felt a jolt of excitement rush through his body when his name was announced. Eric asked him to stay around while the new Beater was chosen. This process, however, took several minutes, and voices in the cluster grew louder for a while, as though a small argument was taking place. At last the decision was made.

"The new Gryffindor Beater is Kenneth Malcolm," announced Eric. And a fourth year boy suddenly took on the approximate shade and colour of a beetroot. Harry saw as he stood up that he was exactly the build for the job: burly and a little bit on the short side. Also, as Harry looked on, he saw Bobby looking at the ground, downcast but with a blank expression on his face.

.:. :.: .:.

"Hey, Bobby!" yelled Harry across the grounds. He'd just been introduced to the rest of the Quidditch team and had his new robes in hand.

Bobby Cruickshank stopped and turned to look at Harry running towards him. "Oh, hi Harry. Congrats on the Seeker position," he said in a monotone.

"Thanks, but what was up with you at the pitch? You looked like the world was coming to an end."

Bobby sighed. "I'm not good enough. I'm not good enough to be a Beater." He pressed his eyes with his hands and sighed again. "All the guys in my family have been Beaters. I'm the wrong build for that position, and I know it, but they say Beating's in my blood. I'm a disgrace to the family, apparently, if I don't get on the Quidditch team. Look at the Quidditch House Cup and you'll see that every time Gryffindor has won there's a Cruickshank Beater on the plaque, except for the last three years; my brother isn't in school anymore, and I haven't held up the bloody tradition."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that appropriately. "You're the build of a Seeker, though. I could tell the team that they should audition you for that position instead."

Bobby looked at Harry for a moment, weighing his options. "I'll think about it."

**A/N: So long, good readers, for the time has come for a proper vacation. I'm leaving tomorrow for the nearest airport, and flying tomorrow at 06:30. How fun is that, you ask? Not all that much, I reply.**

**Hagrid's son is a little baby I know. Not much different, except his eyes are lighter, but he's absolutely adorable. :)**


	18. Bonding

All a Dream

Chapter 18

Harry tried to block out the voices of his dorm mates and sleep, but it was hopeless. Drew and Stew were sitting at a bedside table, planning something. Eric Sanderson was listening to wizard radio, and Dave Olson was practising an incantation that was supposed to make the pattern on the drapes move. Haggis was...being his noisy self. No-one paid much attention, though. Finally giving up, Harry cast _Muffliato _on the others around him, checked to see that nobody was watching, and dove underneath Stew's bed where he knew the Invisibility Cloak was kept. Harry then crept slowly back to his four-poster bed and drew the curtains from the outside. The door opened silently, and after looking back to see that not one of his dorm mates had noticed his escape, Harry slipped down the stairs, past the portrait of Sir Gawain guarding the Gryffindor common room entrance, and into the torch-lit halls of Hogwarts.

Now that Harry was out, he had to decide what to do. Not much of the school layout was different, so there was very little to explore. Besides, he'd heard that the castle was almost empty during free weekends and holidays, so then it would be less likely that he'd be found out past curfew. Instead, he decided to visit the owlery and write to his father. Or maybe Sirius. Maybe both.

It took him a while to scrounge up some parchment, but he found a small supply cupboard holding spare parchment and quills and ink. Harry took the necessary amount of each and continued on his way, trying to make his footsteps silent.

.:. :.: .:.

The Owlery Tower was on the southern side of the school and therefore took the longest time for Harry to get to from Gryffindor Tower. So when Harry saw the time from the light on his watch, he realized he'd been walking for almost half an hour. He also quickly realized that he wasn't alone in the owlery. Someone was crying very quietly in the corner with the most owls. Upon closer inspection, Harry recognized Erin, his sister. Removing the cloak, Harry stowed it behind the door and sat beside the 10-year-old. She acknowledged his presence with a quick glance, but swiftly curled up into a ball. A large tawny owl hopped on her shoulder.  
Nothing was said for several minutes. Erin neither welcomed Harry nor pushed him away.  
When the tears had finished, Harry said, "So..."

Erin choked a bit, but held back tears. Suddenly, she was hugging her eldest brother tightly. "I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Harry looked down at Erin's dark red hair that was so much her mother's.

"I hate this. I never get to see the rest of you guys, my family, and I'm kind of like an outcast in my house; like, everyone's friendly enough but I can't find where I fit, and no-one knows me, and I can't talk to anyone because they all belong and I don't." She sniffed a bit. "And so far, the only ones here I really understand are the owls. And they're the only ones that even seem to understand me." With a few unsteady breaths, Erin seemed to have finished. Harry just tried to comfort her, stroking her hair a bit. She began again. "I'm eleven tomorrow. Nobody knows. Except you, Harry." She wiped her eyes on her sleeves. "Thanks for listening."

Harry understood this. "Anytime, Erin," he replied.

**A/N: So, yeah. I'm back from holidays. They were good. Yeah.**

**Reviews are welcome.  
And the polls for _Thomas Marvolo Riddle_ are closed. I'll post the choice he makes in a few days, I have to write a whole bunch of stuff for it.**


	19. A Date is Set

All a Dream

Chapter 19

A few more moments between Harry and Erin were spent in silent thought. The siblings watched the owls fly in and out of the many windows of the owlery, hunting.  
Harry recalled the isolation he'd felt while he'd dreamed his summers. He also remembered the jubilation he'd felt when he got the Hogwarts letter, when he'd finally fit in.

"You'll find your place soon enough."

Erin smiled in thanks.

"Do you want to write a letter to anyone, like Mum or Nigel? I've got some spare parchment and quills; I was going to write to Dad or Sirius."

Erin thought it over. "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good."

Harry brought over the stationery supplies and set them down on a broad window ledge. He wrote:

_Dear Sirius,_

_How's life with you? School's going fairly well. Stew began the year with a bang. Literally. It was kind of funny, and if you want a fully exaggerated version of what happened, I suggest that you write him._

_It's kind of late right now, way past curfew. Say 'hi' to Regulus for me, and ask him how he's doing._

_I guess I'll see you later._

_Harry_

_P.S. Erin wants to write something:_  
_**Hi Sirius! Mum wrote me, and said you knew where the secret passageway behind a tapestry was, and that it would get me to Transfiguration class faster. Which tapestry? There're loads all over the place.**_

With that final note, Erin and Harry got an old barn owl to take the letters. Together, they walked under the invisibility cloak, trying not to make much noise. When they were almost back to Gryffindor tower, Erin brought up a point. "Um, Harry, could you just kind of drop me off here? Only, I need to take this passage here to get to my common room."

"Oh, sorry. Yeah. Take care, right?" he replied.

"Right, Harry."

As Erin began to walk down the hallway to their left, Harry looked at his watch. It was 12:01.

"Erin!" he stage-whispered.

She wasn't very far away yet, and heard him. "Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday." Harry took off the cloak halfway and gave Erin a tight hug. She hugged back, grinning from ear to ear.

.:. :.: .:.

Classes continued as usual for the next month or so, with the occasional pranks between teachers. Harry's time was almost entirely consumed by homework, though he found himself needing less effort to get good marks than he had previously. He figured that this was because he'd been unconscious while doing his work, making it harder for him to conceive what he was doing. Even so, he found himself doing a few all-nighters.  
The loads of homework also made it difficult to remember that the first free weekend (which was on All Saints Day) was approaching quickly, and that he'd be spending it with Ginny. Occasionally he found himself thinking about it absentmindedly during a lecture, wondering what he and Ginny would do together. He hoped that they'd go to Godrick's Hollow; he wanted to see his hometown, and the house where he'd lived before the coma. But there were so many possibilities, and some of them seemed like they could be fun.  
A week before Hallowe'en, Harry was actually ahead in his homework and decided to find Stew or Drew and play a game of Exploding Snap. He exited the library and was turning a corner when he almost ran smack into Mae, coming close to dropping his books in the process.

"Oh, good, there you are. Ginny 'fancies a chat' with you, come on."

Slightly bewildered, Harry was dragged by the arm to the Gryffindor common room where Ginny sat at one of the tables, reading a thick novel with altogether too much pink on the cover in Harry's opinion. He managed to get a glimpse of the title, _The Academy for Young Witches: Book 2_, before Ginny swiftly stowed it in her book bag. She turned around to face Harry as Mae let go of his arm. Ginny gestured for Harry to sit in the vacant chair beside her, and he did.

"So, um...Mae said that you wanted to talk."

Ginny giggled. "You make it sound so serious. Yeah, I wanted to know what you wanted to do on the free weekend."

"Well..." Harry said, "I was kind of thinking about going to Godrick's Hollow. Y'know, to see the shops and all that."

"Excellent. I guess I'll meet you in the Great Hall, then." Ginny stood up and started over to the girl's dormitories, but stopped and darted back to Harry. Ginny paused for a moment. So quickly he barely noticed it, she kissed Harry on the cheek. And for the next several hours, when everyone had gone to bed and Harry closed the curtains on his four-poster, a small patch on his right cheek burned.

.:. :.: .:.

Hallowe'en began with a sharp popping sound that resonated in Harry's ears. It turned out that Drew and Stew had made a firecracker by setting an over-sized saltine on fire and levitating it in the middle of the circular room. The fire was blue-green because of the salt, and the popping sound was made because the medium the pair had used to set the cracker on fire was...

" Man, I love the smell of potassium and hydrogen in the morning!" yelled Haggis from the far side of the room.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I know that Drew and Stew wouldn't need to use anything but their wands to set that giant cracker on fire. But I love potassium, it's my favourite element, and it makes such a lovely ka-boom sound. I couldn't bear to leave it out.**


	20. Hallows Eve

All a Dream

Chapter 20

In Charms class, which was first on Fridays, Harry's class was set the task of levitating the giant pumpkins in the Great Hall for the feast, and creating an invisible barrier above the four tables that neither the live bats nor their guano could cross. Each of the students were told to carry umbrellas for this task to protect themselves. Harry and Drake Malfoy ended up helping each other: Harry couldn't levitate one of the biggest pumpkins by himself, and Drake was being dive-bombed by a really obnoxious ghost bat. In a weird way, this seemed to bond the two (in a completely platonic way, of course.)  
Herbology, which was second, was easier but slightly boring. All that needed to be done was take notes on certain fertilizers and their specific uses. Homework was reading and taking more notes.

One thing Harry had learned on his first week in school was that hardly anyone ate lunch in the Great Hall. Most people went there to see if a teacher could help them with an assignment. So Harry collected together some tasty comestibles and went outside to join in the antics.

People dressed up in costumes, like any other Muggle children. Well, almost like any other Muggle children. The costumes were, of course, charmed to drip, bubble, sparkle, make very realistic sound effects, and other things of the like. Most of the older students decided that being a seventh year was about the scariest thing imaginable, and remained costumeless (Not robeless, though. Nobody wanted to see...um..._that_.)

Potions and Defence class were, quite basically, combined, as both of the teachers were in and out of their classrooms, avoiding each other via secret passages, to steal the other's equipment to turn it into something decidedly Hallowe'en-ish. This all stopped after Remus and Severn together pranked Professor Delgado by transfiguring his very messy desk into a large pumpkin pie. This started a pie fight like Hogwarts had never seen, and ended when McGonagall got a sloppy, blueberry pie right in the face. She gave everyone detention, including the teachers involved, and the set task was to clean up the mess with one scrub brush per person. No magic, please. With the amount of students involved, each student (and teacher) was given a square foot to clean, which wasn't very hard at all.

.:. :.: .:.

The feast that night was glorious beyond imagining. The food was excellent (though no one was quite sure what could be found in the "opaque jelly surprise"), and nobody tried to stage a food fight again. The Headless Horsemen ghosts made an appearance, terrifying those who weren't used to the caterwauling and hollering. And a pirate ghost that Harry didn't know told tales of his sea voyages to anyone who asked. He introduced himself as Captain Jonathan Snarly, but you could call him by his last name if you wanted, and could you please pass the ham. Oh, wait, never mind.

Drew ended up eating some of the opaque jelly surprise. It turned out that it made him speak in a very high voice for the rest of the evening, as though he'd inhaled some helium. After that, of course, the jelly was a huge hit across all the tables, and each different jelly did something different to your voice. The most infamous one was the pink and purple coloured jelly that made you speak in anagrams until you ate the green and yellow jelly that didn't really do anything.

"Laseep saps teh reneg nad weylol lylej!" Bobby screamed at Dave Olson for the fourth time.

Dave just looked at Bobby, confused. Bobby gave up trying to talk and pointed emphatically at the yellow and green jelly, thus getting the point across and fixing his speech patterns.

.:. :.: .:.

The day couldn't have gone much better in Harry's opinion. He'd finished his homework before midnight, the feast had been a blast, and the next day, was the free weekend, not to mention the day that Hagrid grew back his beard. He'd have to figure that event into his schedule.

As his dorm mates turned off their lamps, Harry slept, dreaming of the days to come.

**A/N: This was one of the more fun chapters to write. It's short, but (I think) rather fulfilling. Three cheers for imagination!**

**Thank you to my newer reviewers, vixen 519 and pandagurl7. I reviewed their fics, and they decided to review this one!** **Yay! This chappie is dedicated to them. And thanks again to Amelie de Lorraine, for reviewing a lot.**

**If they can review, so can you. Please don't let me starve. :(**


	21. All Saints Day part one

All a Dream

Chapter 21

The morning of All Saints Day dawned dreary and dull. As Harry gazed out the East-facing window beside his bed to watch the low-profile glow that was the sun, he wondered what would happen. It was 6:30 in the morning, or so said Dave's radio clock. He tried to silence the butterflies in the pit of his stomach, but was unsuccessful. _I need a calming draught_, he thought as he got dressed for the day ahead. It was cold, so Harry chose to wear a warm, dark blue bunny-hug with a white t-shirt underneath and jeans. Harry looked at himself in the bathroom mirror for anything out of place. _Okay. Completely and totally generic._

It was too early for breakfast, so Harry took out his Herbology textbook and read until Dave's alarm on the radio clock went off at 7:30.

"I thought you turned that bloody thing off, Dave," mumbled Stew, sticking his head out of the drapes around his bed. His blond hair was sticking out in spikes around his head so that it looked like he'd been electrocuted. The only things missing were singe marks and a trail of smoke. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

.:. :.: .:.

Harry ate his porridge quickly, burning his tongue. He chugged his Irish Breakfast tea (Twinings was the best company), now cold, and didn't know what to do now. Harry thought he was still hungry, but he was probably just trying to suffocate those blasted butterflies. They now felt more like large grasshoppers, less gentle than the average monarch.

Ginny entered the Great Hall and began to look around for Harry. He waved her over so that she could sit with him.

"G'morning, Harry. You've finished breakfast already, right?" Ginny indicated Harry's empty plate and mug.

"Yeah. Avoid the bacon, it's been modified."

Ginny laughed a bit. She seemed a bit tired, like she'd stayed up too late. "Modified how?"

"I'm not sure, but a first year was dared to wave his wand at it to see what would happen. Since then, nobody's touched it."

Ginny laughed again, more quietly. From there, she and Harry made polite conversation, adding onto the topic of dares. It was almost like they were saving the deeper (or sillier) conversation for Godrick's Hollow, which, Harry thought, they probably were doing subconsciously. Even thinking the word 'subconscious' made him shiver a little, ever since leaving St. Mungo's, almost as much as the word 'unconscious'.

It didn't take Ginny very long to finish her breakfast. She was a much lighter eater than Harry expected of a Weasley, only eating a bowl of cereal. This small amount of nutrition stimulated the girl who sat beside him, and she was soon dragging Harry by the arm, not unlike Mae had the other night, to the front doors where Professors Grey (the Astronomy teacher and Head of Ravenclaw House), Lupin (who was Head of Gryffindor), Sprout (still Head of Hufflepuff), and Snape (Head of Slytherin) stood, taking down the names of students going to Godrick's Hollow.

"Ah, Harry and Ginny," said Professor Lupin, looking down the long list of names of Gryffindors. "Yes, you're cleared. Off you go, then." Lupin checked off the pairs' names just before subtly giving Harry a thumbs-up for luck. Harry opted for smiling instead of laughing, judging that it wouldn't be a good time to laugh; Ginny would want to know why.

.:. :.: .:.

Snow started to fall around Harry and Ginny as they walked together to the gates of Hogwarts, little eddies swirling behind them. It would take longer than Harry had estimated to get there, but he didn't exactly mind. After all, Ginny was here, and that knowledge was warming him from the inside out. Harry and Ginny realized about the same time that the snow was the kind that stuck together. This resulted in several snowmen, three snow-women and one snow-cat. And a snowball fight, though a short one when the teachers tried to join in and failed miserably thanks to arthritis, an aversion to cold, and having come from an area with little snow.

Godrick's Hollow emerged not long after, and Harry was immediately entranced by the perfection of it all; the cobblestones that were felt beneath peoples' feet covered the stretches of street between shops, and the roundabout that appeared a few hundred meters inside the town's limits had a fountain that was still running, kept unfrozen with a Perpetual Heating charm. The fountain was a series of vine-covered stone sculptures, like cubes and spheres. There was even a double-helix that a young child was being told to stop climbing on.

"Harry, come on. This way." Ginny tugged at his arm. Intrigued, but ever so slightly reluctant, Harry was led off to the left, down a few streets that went to a small crescent in the middle of Godrick's Hollow. On the far end of the crescent from them was a fairly typical house (by wizard standards): two stories with a basement, painted dark red with white shutters, the three broomsticks tied securely to a rack in the side yard. This was the house that Ginny was soon knocking on the door of. The same door was opened by a man of average height. His brown eyes seemed smaller than they were because of the prescription of his glasses, but they appeared to glow a bit, rather than twinkling. The man was mostly bald, though half a ring of strawberry blond hair grew just above his ears, which were slightly pointed. The strangest thing about this man was that he was carrying a perfectly normal Muggle video tape, the title of which was _The Beiderbecke Connection._

"Ah, young Ginger Weasley, nice to see you. And you must be the Harry Potter that I have heard so much about. Come in, come in, both of you, I've just made tea."

Harry was dazed a bit. Here was a man he barely knew who seemed to have expected them, Ginny's real name was Ginger, and those pointed ears the man had did not indicate that he was a full human. Nonetheless, Harry followed Ginny and the man into the house, hoping that alone time with Ginny would occur at some point.

The trio ended up in a kitchen/dining room. There was just a little bit of clutter, but it was all stuff that could be cleaned in five minutes. They sat down at the small table.

"Harry, Peter Langley is the reason you know so much about the Muggle world. He's a former Advanced Muggle Studies professor at the Dumbledore University for Witches and Wizards, and is great friends with my dad. He's also the father of Peterson Langley, who was good friends with your mum and dad."

**A/N: This may sound a bit unfinished, but will continue, hopefully soon. I've got a lot of stuff going on, and that's why this chapter took so long to finish. And because I wanted to make it good.**


	22. All Saints Day part two

All a Dream

Chapter 22

From there on, Peter talked. He was, as Harry had guessed, not a full human, but was related to fairies in a way that was similar to the situations in _A Midsummer Nights Dream_. His son, Peterson, was the one who had been Imperiused and made to give away the Potter's Secret Keeper. Peter had bought the Potter's house when they had moved from Godrick's Hollow to the acreage where they currently lived.

They didn't talk for long, just enough for a few cups of tea and some crisps (you'd never think it, but tea and crisps go quite well together), and then Ginny and Harry were back in the downtown of Godrick's Hollow, looking around the many shops and restaurants.

At about lunch time, Ginny brought Harry into the restaurant called _Minnie's Dining_. It was then that they really got talking, bringing up all the subjects they hadn't been comfortable saying at Peter Langley's place. Harry found himself entranced with Ginny; the way she couldn't stop moving, she always had to be doing something; how quietly she sneezed; the sparkle in her eyes when she smiled and laughed; her general energy and love of life.  
Once lunch was over, Harry and Ginny found themselves wandering the streets, and it didn't seem long before they had to go back to the castle before it got too dark. The pair was halfway across the grounds when a snowball fight began again, only this time it was more serious. The houses made their teams and built their forts quickly, each using a different technique: the Hufflepuffs burrowed into the snow (it was already several feet deep, which would be worrying to anyone who noticed), the Ravenclaws built tall ridges with battlements, the Gryffindors made large snowballs and stacked them together, and the Slytherins made trenches. It wasn't long before Harry was packing snow together as fast as he could, occasionally adding a bit of water from his wand to fix broken snowballs.

Just before the snow fight started to die down, Ginny flopped down beside Harry. "I don't think I could pack together any more snow."

And very suddenly, he didn't know why he did, Harry tilted Ginny's chin up with his hand and kissed her very gently, forgetting the many people around them. It was rather short and very light, but brought attention to them. There were a few wolf whistles before Ginny and Harry burst out laughing.

"Can I ask you a question?" said Harry as he and Ginny walked through the doors to Hogwarts.

"Go ahead."

"Will you go out with me?" Harry tried to keep his voice matter-of-fact.

"Yeah," Ginny replied. "I think I will."

**A/N: Awww. It's a moment.**

**REVIEWS ARE MY FOOD!**


	23. A New Seeker?

All a Dream

Chapter 23

November was cold and dry after the first snowfall. Hagrid had indeed grown his beard back, and between classes could be seen playing with his son (the latter always dressed in a teddy bear snowsuit) on the grounds, Olympe occasionally joining them when there was a lull in the population of the library.

The overload of homework continued, and Potions became gradually more difficult. Transfiguration became easier for Harry than Defence class. This was a bit unnerving to him, and though he thought it had something to do with his former subconscious thought, he didn't know exactly. All this became more stressful with the oncoming Quidditch season.

Bobby Cruickshank still hadn't told Harry if he wanted to re-try out for the Seeker position, and the first Gryffindor game was in two and a half weeks. And so, Harry sighed with relief when, after a Thursday practice, Bobby was walking towards him from across the field. Harry waved in acknowledgement and walked towards Bobby, a little faster.

"I've decided. About trying out for Seeker," said Bobby, sounding kind of on edge. "I'll give it a try."

"Excellent. We'll have to talk to the team about it now."

"What?" Bobby exclaimed. "You didn't tell them?"

"No, I figured the rest of the team would want both of us there to explain," said Harry, smiling. Smirking, really.

Upon entering the change rooms, everyone looked up, confused by Bobby's presence. Ginny was standing by the lockers, replacing her Quidditch robes. "Hey Harry. Hi Bobby, what's up?" The ruder version of the question was "what are you doing here?" but Ginny had always had more sense than that. Harry mentally chuckled to himself.

"Harry and I need to talk to Eric. Where is he?"

"He's putting away the equipment," Ginny replied.

"No he's not." Eric stepped into view from the doorway opposite. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Harry thinks that I'm better at Seeking than him, and that I'd be better for the team," Bobby said in a rush.

"We think that we should make him try out for Seeking," Harry supplemented.

Eric was pondering even before Harry was finished speaking. "...Have you seen Bobby play Seeker before?"

"Yeah," chorused the Chasers and Harry. "He's pretty good," Mae added.

"I concur!" yelled Stew in a judgelike fashion. Everyone stared at him ludicrously. "I've always wanted to say that."

"Okay, we need to set a date for this," said Eric, all business. "Would tomorrow at lunch be fine? Considering it's only Bobby in this, it shouldn't take too long. And we want as little attention drawn to this as possible, right? So everyone'll be at lunch while this extra thing is going on, unable to watch, and we may just have a new Seeker."

General mumbling of the rest of the team.

"Good. Now has everyone packed up all nice? Stew, any more life long goals you want to fulfill here and now? Right, then. Meeting adjourned!"

.:. :.: .:.

"Bobby? Bobby, are you alright?" William, the Beater, was alternately tapping Bobby on the side of the face and shaking him by the shoulders. For some reason, Bobby had fainted. Suddenly his eyelids fluttered. "Did someone just say that I was Seeker?"

.:. :.: .:.

Gryffindor won their first game, with the team consisting of Chasers, Ginny Weasley and Mae and Stew Potter; Beaters, William LeBlanc and Kenneth Malcolm; Keeper, Eric Sanderson; Seeker, Bobby Cruickshank. When the names were announced, a ripple of chatter went through the stadium. Where had Harry gone? Amazingly enough, no-one seemed to want to press the point after the game. It was a relief for the Gryffindor team, no matter how uncharacteristic it was for the school not to immediately start rumours.

Soon enough, Christmas holidays were looming and owls regularly could be seen swooping in and out of the common room windows and Great Hall at meals. Harry and his siblings were going to go home for the holidays, and Drew was going to come with them. Harry was positive that "pure insanity!" (as Haggis had once been dared by Dave to scream across the Great Hall during dinner) would ensue, considering the community feeling he got whenever anyone had visited during the summer holidays. Harry's instinct told him that Christmas would most likely involve at least five other families. This instinct proved correct when Stew, Mae and Erin got going once on the topic of the holiday dinners.

.:. :.: .:.

It was the classic Christmas holidays scene as Harry and company walked to the Hogsmead train station, baggage in tow. Christmas was in three days, as Erin had reminded those around her many times over. She was bubbling over with excitement, and even though Stew seemed to want to set a good example for once, Harry could tell that Stew was just as excited as his youngest sister. Mae was a bit less composed as she practically skipped onto the train, Erin following not far behind. Harry followed Stew into one of the compartments and took one last glance towards the scene behind as the train began to move.

**A/N: This story is now on a one and a half month hiatus. I really need to work on my other stories, and I'd like to post the Christmas chapters closer to Christmas.**

**Please review! Just click the little purple-ish blue button, right over there.**


	24. Holidays Start

All a Dream

Chapter 24

Erin pushed past Mae and Stew to get at the window as soon as she saw Platform 9.75 slide into view. She pressed her face up against the glass, looking for Mum and Dad. Harry was sitting by the window, and in his heart of hearts knew he wanted to copy Erin. _But_, he thought, _I'm really too old for that. Besides, I can't fit my face beside hers in the window._ And then the train came to a complete stop. Harry couldn't see his parents through the crowd of people, but Nigel was visible, only a foot or so from the side of the train. There was definitely something different about the nine-year-old, but he was jumping up and down so enthusiastically that Harry couldn't quite tell what the change was.

Once Mae, Harry, Drew and Stew were outside, Nigel ran over to them. "You're home, you're home, you're home!" he exclaimed over and over as he hugged each person in turn. It was then that Harry could see the difference: Nigel had acquired glasses. They weren't round like Harry's, but kind of like rounded off rectangles. The frames were really quite thick. _Probably so that they won't break so easily_, Harry thought.  
Nigel herded his brothers and sisters and Drew to where Lily was standing beside James. When the adults saw the kids emerging out of the crowd they all smiled, and Lily ran forward to hug her children (Drew included). "Oh, it's so wonderful to have you back," she said.

.:. :.: .:.

The fire in the Potter's living room turned bright green. Harry, who had been home for one day exactly, jumped in surprise at the familiar voice that floated out of the fire.

"Good Lillejulaften to all Potters and Collins in this residence!" shouted Dave Olson, his Swedish accent coming more into play as he progressed through the greeting. "This is the Potter residence, right? I haven't gone through the network wrong?"

"Yeah, Dave, this is Harry, come on in."

And Dave did, a grand smile on his face. In his hands was a lump of an unknown substance, wrapped in tinfoil. "My mother overdid the cooking this year. So here's some pudding for you guys."

Harry took the sweet-smelling pudding from Dave. "Hey, thanks. You didn't have to do this, you know."

"Yeah, I did," Dave answered. "When I said my mom cooked too much this year that was an understatement. There are no more flat surfaces to bake on anymore, so my mom, and the rest of the women in our family for that matter, had to give up baking altogether. Thank goodness."

Harry laughed. "So do you have your family staying for Christmas?"

"Yep. And they all speak Swedish; I now have to think to speak English properly, I have to speak so much Swedish."

Stew and Drew, who had just walked into the room, then laughed. "Hey, Dave," Drew greeted him. "Ooh, is that the famous Grandma Olson's Christmas Pudding I smell?"

"Yes, yes it is," replied David with a smile as Stew and Drew grabbed the tinfoil-wrapped pudding from Harry's hands ("Steal!") and ran to the dining room.

.:. :.: .:.

It was Christmas Eve, and the Potter clan stood in a line in front of the fire. This year, the "Grand Christmas Eve Potluck of Maintaining Good Relations between Members of the Order" (GCEPMGRFMO for short) would be held at Sirius and Regulus' place in Wales. Harry realized that, though he had seen Sirius a lot over the summer holidays, he had never been to Sirius' house; Sirius had always been the one to come over to the Potters'. He wondered what the house would look like, and if it would fit everyone.

Stew and Mae had told him on the train ride of just how big this feast could be. It had a long history of having too many people at once, but also a history of being the most fun event of the year.  
The first person to step into the fire was James. Then went Lily, Stew and Nigel. Then it was Harry's turn. He threw in more Floo Powder, and said "23 Castell Ave.", attempting to enunciate every syllable. And he was thrown into a wall in a very narrow hallway.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," Regulus greeted in a timid baritone voice.

**A/N: There. My one and a half month hiatus from this fic is over.**

**The street name is spelled correctly. It's just Welsh.**

**Oh! And when Drew and stew yell "Steal!", I took that from my friend. Whenever she takes something from us, she yells "Steal!" first. We've always joked that she would be a horrible theif.**

**And I couldn't resist the Lillejulaften (which means "Litlle Christmas Eve") greeting from Dave. Its very important in my very Swedish family. So is the Christmas Pudding, which is actually more of a cake. We get as many people as possible to help bake the cake because then it supposedly tastes better. I wouldn't know, because I've only had it once (my Grandma usually doesn't have enough time/energy to make it), so I haven't had any other cake to compare it to.**

**I hope that the next chapter is longer.**

**And please review! ::puppy eyes::**


	25. Christmas

All a Dream

Chapter 25

Regulus Black did not particularly look like Sirius. His face had a thinner jaw structure, and his hair was mousey brown, but straight. The brown eyes weren't necessarily mischievous, but very clever-looking. As he took their coats, Harry noticed that Regulus' arms were rather worn, and his hands were broad and looked as though they were used on hard labour a lot.

Nigel was being a little difficult. When he zoomed into the hallway from the fireplace, he latched onto Regulus' left leg and wouldn't let go.

"Nigel, I need _both_ legs to walk to the closet and put away the coats. And then I need to be setting up the tables outside. All that involves a lot of _work_. You don't want to be involved with _work_, do you?"

"Sorry, Uncle Reg," the child responded, frightened by the impending doom of _work_, so Nigel dashed off to find someone else to play with. Harry chuckled watching his brother, and followed him to the kitchen where several of the Weasleys were seated, along with Seamus Finnegan and Drake Malfoy. Ron was in a conversation with them about their jobs. It soon became apparent that Seamus and Ron were working as store clerks for the Weasley triplet's joke shop. Drake laughed at the anecdotes described. As Harry walked in, Ron looked up and waved. The redhead gestured at the chair beside him, and Harry sat down. Another conversation started up, mostly about Hogwarts and what they were doing for the holidays.

That question was answered when Hermione walked in. She ran over to Ron, whose face had lit up at the sight of her, and kissed him enthusiastically. Both Drake and Seamus rolled their eyes at the sight, and Harry laughed to himself.

.:. :.: .:.

Dinner was huge.

It had to be held outside under a giant tent, and the line of tables ran around the perimeter of the Black's back yard. In the middle was a large Christmas tree wrapped with tinsel, and the tiny musical instruments hung on the branches played Christmas music, topped with a rather vocal angel. A great deal of families were at the Black's, including the Weasleys, Finnegans, Piper/Granger family, Malfoys and Longbottoms. Harry was amazed by the magnitude of it all, and the family feeling radiating off every person there. He felt as though it couldn't be real, almost like a dream.

Turkey was the main course of the night, preceded by sweet potatoes, corn and squash. All of it smelled of the wood smoke from the wood stove in the Black's kitchen, and tasted bold.

Naturally, there were Christmas crackers. Harry decided to jazz up the hat he got, and so turned it a brighter colour of purple.

.:. :.: .:.

Conversation carried Harry through the rest of the day, and well into the night. He was swept from one room to another by all the people, all having questions for him. Surprisingly, very few questions were repeated, as though it had all been painstakingly planned out. Now that he thought about it, it probably had, but then dismissed that mental comment.

**A/N: I am sorry that this took so long, and that it's such a short chapter. I'm just really, really stuck on what to do next. I know what the ending looks like, but between this chapter and the next one, I have nothing.**

**HELP ME! Any ideas? Anyone?**


	26. Holidays Are Over

All a Dream

Chapter 26

"Mum, Nigel took my new book, and he won't give it back!" Erin squealed as the youngest in the Potter family yelled loudly what the books contents were: it was the first book in a series that Harry had glimpsed once before, _The Academy for Young Witches_. It was, of course, a bit of a girly book made funny by the way Nigel laughed at sentences involving make-up, shoes and potions for hair.  
Stew had disappeared shortly after he opened his second present, only to return a few moments later with a wide, smug grin on his face. Later, Harry found an instruction book on how to be stealthier about pranking hidden under Stew's mattress.

Harry hadn't been given a lot for Christmas, but all the things were high-quality and/or useful. He'd gotten a notebook from his mum and dad that could fit in the palm of his hand, but held over three-hundred, regular-sized pages. (In the note that came with it, his father had written that it would come in handy during Auror training, where notes needed to be taken on everything); a Weasley jumper, just like everyone else; a portable swamp from Stew and Drew, now being produced through the triplets' joke shop; from Sirius and Regulus came a dictation quill that would write whatever you said to it; and from Mae, Erin and Nigel there was an owl. She was a Tawny owl, and in the little fact card that came with the cage it said the Latin name for the genus of owl. That was when Harry decided on the name Strix for her.

.:. :.: .:.

The ride back to Hogwarts seemed much longer than usual Harry noted as he read through the beginning chapters of another of his Christmas presents, this one from Ron. It was called _Twilight_, and so far it seemed fairly well written, although Harry thought that there was too much happening from the girl's point of view, and no where near enough action. Finally, the train halted and soon enough, Harry was carrying his trunk and the bird cage containing Strix in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, following the flow of people and making sure Erin wasn't lost in the crowd. Once inside the dorm rooms, Harry allowed himself to flop onto his bed, exhausted. It wasn't long before he was revisiting his holidays in his head...

.:. :.: .:.

Classes after the holidays went rather well. The teachers were again pressing that everyone should study, and students would often find pop quizzes on their desks when they walked into their classrooms. By mid-February a little more pressure was beginning to be felt by all, especially the fifth and seventh years. Valentines Day came and went, Harry taking little notice of it, though he did find a little card from Ginny tucked away in one of his books.

Hagrid and Olympe's son, Johnny, was also becoming quite the task for the two. He was just able to walk now, and one day when Harry went over for tea the young child had somehow managed to get from the floor to the kitchen counter in the span of thirty seconds.

Then there were the 'daily pranks'. One that kept being repeated was the removal and replacement of objects at random points during class. It got to the point that three chairs found themselves suddenly standing upon Snape's desk at the back of the classroom. Snape then wrote a thank-you letter on one of them to Professor Lupin and sent them back, only to find out later that the chairs had been from Professor Delgado.

**A/N: I am really, really sorry. I haven't updated in the **_**longest**_** time, and this is a fairly short chapter! I was having crazy writer's block. I'm almost done now. Maybe three more chapters, if that.  
****I also recently learned that the name Remus belongs to one in a set of twins who were both raised by wolves. I think. We've only just started our Greek mythology unit in English.  
****I found an error in the thirteenth chapter that I have now fixed (Harry wasn't actually the one who killed Voldie, it was Remus). Please notify me if you find any more things wrong!**


	27. Exams

All a Dream

Chapter 27

And then, the week came. That ever dreaded week: exam week. Harry watched as one by one, every student began to show their signs of stress. Stew could be seen on the grounds, flying on his broomstick, reciting various key pages of the texts. Ginny was actually finding her surroundings colder, and wore a winter cloak all the time. Several people were unnecessarily snappish about trivial things, while other people were too distant to care much. Harry just felt tired all the time.

His written Charms exam was first, and while he had to wrack his brain for some of the older spells Harry felt he'd done quite well. Immediately after lunch, he then had his Charms practical exam. His examiner was a frizzy-haired lady in a nasty, green robe. Her aura of tenseness did not help Harry's concentration any, and when asked to fill with water a glass he had just recently charmed to float, the jet of water that appeared shattered the glass and soaked him and the examiner head to toe. The lady looked up at him from under the soggy, dripping mop that was her hair. "I now suggest that you Clean This Mess," she said, emphasising the last three words.

Of course, Harry complied, stunned to silence.

The rest of his exams went much the same, though he felt that he did rather better in Transfiguration and Defence. For those two exams, he practically had a smile on his face the whole time. This was truly his element, and it made him glad.

Somehow, in between his written and practical exam for Herbology, Harry met up with Erin for lunch.

"So how've your exams been going, Erin?" Harry asked his little sister as they walked along the edge of the lake, eating sandwiches.

Erin looked a bit uncomfortable. "I'm not sure at all. I mean, I think I did okay, but I didn't understand many of the questions in Transfiguration. I don't think I did too well on that one."

"Hey, at least you didn't ruin the robes of a NEWT level examiner."

Erin gasped. "What did you _do_?"

"She asked me to do _Aguamenti_, and I guess I just overdid it."

This amused Erin to no end. She didn't entirely stop laughing until Harry looked at his watch and realised he'd be late to his practical if he didn't get going.

.:. :.: .:.

Exams were finally over, and Harry was wandering the nearly empty halls. He'd already packed his trunk and was waiting for seven-o-clock, when the graduation ceremony would begin. But before that happened, he wanted to check something first.

"Third floor, past the trolls..." Harry muttered to himself. "Oh...I guess it was goblins he was trying to teach to dance. Well, here goes nothing."

Harry walked to the vase and thought. Then he walked back to the end of that corridor, and thought. He did that three more times. _I want to know the truth. I want to know what I missed._

On his third time past the blank stretch of wall, he heard a kind of sucking-popping noise, and looked to his left. There was a simple, wooden door, like any other found in Hogwarts. Funny; he'd always found it to his right. Harry waited one second. Two. Three. Then, cringing his eyes in case he had done something horribly wrong, Harry turned the knob of the door and opened it slowly. The hinges made no noise, and Harry looked all around him. He didn't know why he was trying to be so secretive. It wasn't like he was going against the rules in a fit of rebellion or anything. But maybe it was just that...this was something he had to do alone.

In the dark room was an old film projector, the kind with the reels on top, looking like Mickey Mouse ears. On the wall was an unwrinkled bedsheet, and on the floor was a beanbag chair.  
As soon as Harry sat down, the film began to roll. At first, everything was white, and then the movie started. They were all the family videos, like Stew wobbling around on fat toddler legs, Mae eating a chocolate birthday cake with a candle on top that changed colours, Erin laughing at her father's silly faces, Nigel being held by various relatives and friends. Harry was amazed to find that there were a few shots he was in, not only as a baby, but also during the time between the defeat of Voldemort and his awakening. Though he hadn't been awake at all, he had been at home up until he was nine or so, staying in his room with Quidditch posters and a bedspread with owls on it. He wondered what happened to make him hospital-worthy, why he couldn't have stayed home instead. Then there were videos of family gatherings, taken by people other than Lily and James. A few clips were from the Weasley family, all of them dressed nicely for a wedding. Ron, of course, looked a little uncomfortable in the few-sizes-too-small dress robes, while Ginny, quiet, complacent, was dressed in a little, frilly dress just barely too big. Then the triplets stole the camera and ran around the room, filming up peoples' noses until Percy, still the rule-abiding one, grabbed the camera and gave it back to Mr. Weasley, who promptly began holding the camera upside-down. Drake was featured in one clip, where he was visiting Harry in hospital, very quiet, probably thinking.

Not all of the clips were happy, though. There was one of Dumbledore's funeral, and a wizarding news report of the Death Eaters still at large.

Harry tried hard to take it all in, to soak up as many of the years he missed as he could, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to, unless he had a pensieve and stored these memories in a bottle.

.:. :.: .:.

"What's the graduation ceremony like?" Harry asked Ginny as they were being handed proper, black robes and pointed hats with a black tassel on top.

"Well," Ginny answered, "you just walk up the aisle, and there'll be an arch. Just before you go under the arch, you have to shoot spark out of your wand, just to prove you can do magic at all and the last seven years haven't been a waste. Then you go shake the hands of the professors and sit down."

"That's it? It's that simple?" Harry said. "I was expecting something, I don't know, a bit grander."

"Oh...you'll see," Ginny said, pulling on her robe over her uniform. "Just because it's simple doesn't mean it isn't grand."

"Alphabetical order, now!" Professor McGonagall called out "Alphabetical order!"

"Oh, and one last thing," Ginny said quickly. "You have to wear the Sorting Hat again."

"I have to _what_?" Harry almost shouted before he was shooed by McGonagall to the middle of the line in front of Stew. Hadn't the Sorting Hat confirmed three times already that he was a Gryffindor?

As all the seventh years filed into the Great Hall, the crowd in the seats erupted into cheers. Fairies flew low overhead, as did owls and ravens. Cameras clicked and flashed, making Harry feel kind of like a movie star. A stage was erected at the front of the room, and the teachers were lined up on the left side. In the middle of the stage, set perpendicular to the audience was a beautifully woven and plaited, glass arch. As the first person was called up onto the stage, the audience quieted down, and white confetti was shot into the air from the bottom of the steps. Her name was called out by Professor McGonagall as she walked to the glasswork arch. She waved her wand, blue sparks came out, and she walked under the arch. As she did so, the tassel on her hat turned from black to white. She then sat on a stool, and put the Sorting Hat on her head, over her other hat. It was a second and a half before the hat yelled out, "Congratulations!" Smiling, the girl took off the hat, shook the professor's hands and sat in the first row of six reserved for the graduates. For the next sixteen letters, Harry concentrated very little. He did notice, though, that whether or not it was intentional, the sparks that shot out the end of people's wands corresponded with their house colours.

At last, Harry's name was called. He stepped onto the stage, and walked the long walk to the arch. He raised his hand and shot sparks into the air. But he was surprised when they turned out to be white instead of the red he'd intended. What was going on? Confused, Harry walked to the stool, not seeing the looks on everyone's faces, but hearing the excited whispers radiating throughout the hall.

As he sat on the stool he placed the hat on his head. With the hat he had the following conversation:

"My, my, my, you have changed since I saw you last, Mr. Potter."

"Really?"

"Why, yes. There is no doubting I sorted you correctly, but now...I'm not sure where I'd place you..."

"What do you mean? I'm still a Gryffindor, right?"

"Yes...and no. You see, you appear to have developed other characteristics. You've shown great loyalty to your little sister this year, Erin, loyalty as only a Hufflepuff would know. And you also studied, persevered, and have become as intelligent as any of the excellent Ravenclaws. Also, you were quite ambitious this year, and clever, too, determined to find the truth and accept it. But it took a lot of bravery to face those truths. Yes. Much bravery. And then much loyalty, intelligence, ambition, as I have already said. You are a changed man, Mr. Potter. And not quite like anything I have seen yet. An amazing specimen, you are."

"Um...thank you...I think. Will this change the ceremony at all? Can I just go and sit down with everyone else?"

"It will change the ceremony a bit, seeing as how I've talked with you longer than I have ever talked with one graduate before, but other than that, no. You may keep our conversation secret, or tell the whole world if you wish. I see no problem with either. I think you're ready, now, to face the world as a proud wizard. Congratulations!"

Harry removed the hat, went along the line of professors, smiling at each of their wondering faces, and sat down beside a short Slytherin who was gawking at him with bewilderment in his eyes. "No-one's ever had the hat on for that long," he said.

"Yeah. The hat told me," Harry replied.

**A/N: So, I'm pretty much done now. If you ask me, I think it needs an epilogue. I'm going to write an epilogue.**

**I would have updated sooner, but my computer got a nasty, nasty virus. I'm just happy that my saved work wasn't annihilated.**

**Thanks for everyone who has stayed with me for so long! Thanks to everyone who read, alerted, favourited and reviewed! *hug***


	28. The End

All a Dream

The End

Harry sunk down onto his horrible-smelling mattress in the Temperance cabin. He'd had a long day at Auror training camp, and now just wanted to sleep.

The camp was an old muggle camp that had been abandoned decades ago. It had fallen into disrepair, but then been fixed up by the Ministry of Magic, though only marginally. The purpose of this particular camp was to train the future Aurors how to live in very nasty conditions; and what nasty conditions they were. Rats, starving rats, ate away at everything**.** The rations the students were given had to be kept close at hand all the time, or they would undoubtedly be stolen. The roofs of all the cabins had leaks, and Cabin Diligence (all the cabins were named after the seven virtues) had started with no roof at all. One of the first classes had been on how to fend for yourself - starting with fixing the roofs.

But now that Harry and the rest of his classmates had been here for a month, they'd managed to fix up the place a little. Harry had filled many, many pages of the notebook his parents had given him with the things he'd learned in the last month. Devon, a half-blood who had lived in near-poverty for the better part of his life, knew a spell to ward off the rats and most other vermin. And Jenkins' mum had run a housecleaning service, so he knew some spells to make the cabins smell tolerable (though some of the smells, like the ones emanating from the mattresses, were just too deep to be destroyed). There were people from all walks of life in this Auror camp, some who had been through events unimaginable to Harry. One young fellow in Cabin Charity had almost been killed by his own teddy bear. Anna, one of Harry's bunkmates, had lived on the street for two years without a wand. Looking back on his life, or what he thought his life had been, he'd always portrayed himself as something of a martyr. Compared to a lot of these people, he'd been living a life of paradise. A dream life.

Practically the second he'd met his bunkmates, Harry had realized just how lucky he had been. Never once in the last year had he thought about what a very fortunate person he was, to have become a balanced person, to not have really had so much pressure on his shoulders. To have awoken.

Lying down on his broken bed, Harry had never felt more complete.

* * *

**A/N: Well, there we go. I think it's done.**

**Oh! And I'm probably going to do some work on the first four or five chapters. Like, shove them all together into one chapter that will be labelled ****Chapters 1-5****.**

**I would like to thank everyone for reading, reviewing, alerting and favouriting, but there are some specific people I would like to thank: ****Amelie de Lorraine**** for reviewing lo these many chapters; ****pandagurl**** and ****Someone aka Me**** for latching onto this story so late in it's production; Alan for letting me bounce ideas off him; and ****siriuslives394**** for reading over and fixing this last bit (and also for tricking me into singing "Fish and Chips and Vinegar". That was funny). **

_**The End**_


End file.
